


Waiting for the 7:18

by Conscious_ramblings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Bottom Louis, Dom Harry, Fluff, Harry woos Louis, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, Lube, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past relationship causes angst, Rimming, Spanking, but they kinda share that, side Ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4729253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conscious_ramblings/pseuds/Conscious_ramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' life is languishing somewhere between his too empty flat and his barristers chambers. One day a curly haired menace comes into his life in the most unexpected way, leaving an imprint on him that Louis can't even start to understand. </p><p>The curly haired menace somehow buries himself into Louis' life, and it's only when a past love comes back to haunt Louis that he fully appreciates just how much.</p><p>--- </p><p>Louis is a barrister, Harry works in a record shop. There's a lot of mutual pining and Harry wooing Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all huge thanks to Layne, for without her this would be languishing in the depths of my google drive, not even close to being finished.
> 
> Secondly thanks to everyone who has helped and encouraged and read this for me; Lynn, Helene, Brit and Alice. You guys made me need to finish and publish this.
> 
> Lastly thanks to my best friend who's life stories I have jacked in part to make this happen.
> 
> It is all written, I'll be updating twice a week I think. There are 6 chapters and an epilogue and it's about 50k all in.
> 
> It's been sort of beta'd by the lovely Layne but all mistakes are most definitely mine. 
> 
> The places in this fic all exist, it is in many ways a tribute to the places I love in my city. Standard I know nothing and this isn't meant to imply anything about the real people depicted thing.
> 
> Oh and the character it seems I hate, I don't, I love them, but it worked.

Elbowing his way onto the central line at Shepherds Bush, Louis wondered once again why he lived in one of the most populated cities in the world, how this had become his life. He missed Doncaster, missed being able to drive twenty minutes and be in the countryside. If he drove twenty minutes from his cramped flat, he’d be in Willesden Junction, and lord knows that’s a shit hole. He needed to get out of London, or to at least not spend  every evening and weekend holed up in chambers. He’d not returned  home til ten last night, microwaved a waitrose meal that looked a million times better in its photo than reality, and now here he was, back at the station, clawing his way onto the 7:18.

He just managed to claim a section of pole to hold onto, before a large man’s armpit was unceremoniously shoved in his face. At least it smelled of deodorant, it could be worse. The central line was like the tenth circle of hell after all, the cloying heat hitting you like a wave as soon as you descended into its depths.

The shift and sway of the carriage lulled him into complacency, whilst he mentally reviewed  today’s case in his head. Shipping law was not exactly exciting, but when he had applied for pupillage after the bar course, he’d been drawn to commercial law for the money. Unfortunately,  his chambers seemed to specialise in the slightly more boring aspects of commercial, and the clerks seemingly give him the worst cases of the lot. He needed to do some serious sucking up, maybe a fruit basket. Did people even do that anymore? Booze was probably a better option.  He made a mental note to himself, one he forgot before he made it to the office.

At Oxford Circus the tube cleared massively, and even though he only had two stops left, Louis flopped into a seat, grabbing an abandoned Metro and quickly scanning the headlines. The seats around him filled up and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a man who seemed to be all curls, floral patterns and long limbs encased in dangerously tight skinny jeans. Louis couldn’t help peek at the man over the top of his paper, it’d been a long time since he’d felt any type of attraction to another human being. In fact it’d  been 2 years since Aiden had left half-way through Louis’ bar course, citing the fact that he hadn’t seen Louis for more than sleeping in months. Louis still felt that had been unreasonable, seeing he’d warned Aiden before he started that he’d  be busy, needing to impress with an impeccable work ethic to make up for his  lack of an Oxbridge degree when he applied for pupilage. It had been a long two years of celibacy since Aiden left. Now, as a Junior barrister, he had slightly less pressure to impress and slightly more time on his hands for socialising. Sadly, He spent most of that free time in the bars around Lincoln’s Inn, hardly ripe grounds for picking up hot, eligible men.

He was drawn from thoughts of Aiden by a flash of movement across the carriage, the curly man drawing a slim book from the impossibly tight back pocket of his jeans (how did that even work?). A smirk curled Louis lips when he recognised the cover as On The Road, _hipster please_. Suddenly, something flew across the carriage at him when the man opened his book. The object sailed over the top of Louis’s newspaper to land in his lap, a small, shiny, distinctively shaped package. Picking it up, Louis felt a blush flaring on his face.

_Lube?_

_What the fuck?_

_Was Curly for real?_

Looking up, Louis met the other man’s gaze and almost lost his breath, hit by the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen. A smile played on the other man’s face, his broad shoulders raised in an apologetic shrug. Impossibly full lips mouthed “ _Oops!_ ” which was just - he didn't want to think about those lips. How the hell was Louis meant to play this off? The first man he’d found attractive in fuck knows how long and he had just thrown lube at Louis across a crowded tube carriage? Louis decided he couldn’t play it off, so instead he stood, adjusting his long Burberry coat and moved to the doors. He’d just get off at Tottenham Court Road and walk to Holborn. Like hell was he staying on the train with a beautiful lube-throwing mentalist any longer.

When the doors opened, he turned back for one last look at the angelic-faced lube throwing menace, only to realise that said menace was behind him, getting off the tube, with a look on his face that screamed _barely suppressed grin_. Louis turned on his heel and strode along the platform, keen to put as much space between him and Curly Lube Boy as possible. But it seemed fate had other plans, for when Louis hit the crowd at the bottom of the escalator, Curly was right behind him, and when Louis pushed his way past those waiting to stand, Curly followed, taking the steps of the escalator in his stride as he climbed two paces behind Louis. By now Louis had mentally upgraded Curly from beautiful lube-throwing monster to beautiful lube-throwing stalker, and was starting to fear for his safety. Which, to be honest, was faintly ridiculous of course. At nearly eight am in the middle of central London,  surrounded by people, what exactly could Curly do anyway?

Just as Louis fumbled his oyster card from his coat pocket, he felt a hand on his shoulder, stomach sinking as he knew exactly who it was. Shrugging the hand off he pushed through the barrier before turning angrily to his stalker, who had his hands held in front of him in a gesture of supplication.

“Look, I’m sorry?” The man’s slow drawl curled up at the end, turning his apology into a question, and Louis felt irritation crawl at the back of his neck.

“It’s fine. No big deal.” Gritting his teeth he wondered just how the fuck he had managed to get himself into this situation, and how he could get out.

“Can I take you for coffee? Apologise properly like?” The man’s tone had softened dramatically and Louis thought he saw something like interest in his eyes, but when he glanced to his watch and back up the look was gone.

“I can’t, I’m due in court in an hour and I need to get to chambers still. It’s no big deal anyway, I get lube thrown at me every day.” He turned and fled, not waiting to see the reaction to his incredibly lame attempt at a joke, but unable to miss the bark of laughter that followed him.

“You have my card!” What? What exactly did Curly Stalker Lube Monster mean by that? Louis didn’t even have time to think as he pushed his way through the crowds, heading down Oxford Street towards Holborn. Curly had made him legitimately late and he wouldn’t even have time to grab a coffee on the way into Hardwike.

 

It was only hours later, after Louis’ had appeared in court, doing his best to mediate between some huge shipping conglomerate and his client, that he had time to consider the strange statement properly. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t considered it all morning, but he had been doing his hardest to shove it to the back of his mind, curly haired lube monsters be damned. Grabbing a sandwich from Fleet he found a spare metre of space on Lincoln’s Inn Fields and settled down for lunch and pondering curls and green eyes. Louis was human, despite what his friends may say, and he could appreciate a pretty man as much as the next man, more than most he supposed. And Curly _was_ pretty, even if he did throw lube at unsuspecting men at 7.45 in the morning.

Loosening his tie he moved to lie back on his coat, folded under his head, and it was then that he felt the small packet in his coat pocket. The lube. The angelic monster lube. Why had he kept it, he wasn’t quite sure, but now he drew it out and inspected the packet, shielding it from prying eyes as much as possible. The last thing he needed was every other junior barrister around Lincoln’s gossiping about his sex life, or lack thereof. There was a name and an address on the packet, and surely, surely Curly wasn’t crass enough to have personalised lube which he just chucked at men he found attractive? He found a word, “Zayn’s”, and an address that Louis felt was possibly in Soho. A quick google search on his phone bought momentary relief when Louis found out it was a shop, and then incredulous laughter as he saw that the shop was one of Soho’s notorious ‘book’ shops. Upstairs it would be respectable but venture down into the basement and Louis knew he would find an array of tacky sex toys and tackier lingerie. _Honestly Curly? This is your ‘card’?_

Walking back to chambers he meant to throw the lube in the nearest bin, as god was his witness, but if it somehow ended up back in his pocket then nobody ever needed to know. It wasn’t like he was going to go looking for the Curly haired lube monster anyway.

Two weeks later Louis had almost forgotten Curly, honestly. No one could prove otherwise anyway. So if when he wandered down Oxford Street on a rare Tuesday when he had escaped the office at six and didn’t want to go home to an empty flat and nothing to do, and if his feet turned him down Wardour Street then it was just because he wanted to send his mum some chocolates from that fancy place he’d read about in the Standard, nothing to do with the fact that Zayn’s was a few minutes walk from here. His excuses became less viable, even to himself, as his feet carried him past the chocolate shop and further into the heart of Soho.

The shop was bright and airy upstairs, ‘normal’ books mixing innocently with smuttier offerings, and Louis spent an inordinate amount of time checking them all out, eyes flicking occasionally to the stairs to the basement. There was a girl with long blonde hair and heavy eyebrows behind the counter, and she caught Louis’ eye a few times, growing more amused at him each time. He was so obvious he could kick himself. Finally, when he had run out of box sets of Harry Potter and books on JFK to run his fingers over, he took a few deep breaths and tried to casually head downstairs. That would have worked better if his coat hadn’t caught on the bannister, but all in all Louis felt he had been quite subtle.

The tacky sex toys were even worse than Louis had envisaged in his mind. Fluffy handcuffs, leopard print paddles, way too much fifty shades of grey branded, well, everything. It was like a hen party had thrown up all over it and added some extra pink and glitter for good luck. Louis rounded the bottom of the staircase and saw a man at the counter who was most definitely not his curly menace. This man looked like he had just stepped off the catwalk in Milan, all defined cheekbones, effortless quiff and caramel skin. He wasn’t Louis’ type, obviously, Louis didn’t exactly have a type apart from his own right hand and now apparently curls, but even Louis could admit this man was insanely beautiful.

“Alright, man?” Was Mr March talking to him? Louis looked around quickly and saw he was the only person here so, okay, he could do this.

“Hi,” his voice was not meant to squeak like that, “Um I mean, hey.” Smooth Tomlinson, real smooth. Mr March was now trying to control a smirk, rolling a cigarette without even glancing down at his hands. Really Louis thought that sex shop workers should have a little bit more etiquette about nervous customers, as a heavy blush crept up the back of his neck.

“Need any help just shout, the interesting stuff is through that curtain.” Mr March was now retreating up the stairs, cigarette behind his ear, and Louis could hear him calling to the girl upstairs to keep an eye on things.

Louis wasn’t quite sure that he wanted to know what the ‘interesting’ stuff was, but he had to check for curly haired boys, now that he was here, and so with a glance over his shoulder to check no one saw, he pushed through the beaded curtain. It wasn’t quite what he had expected, not mild crops and paddles and restraints. No this was hardcore. There were benches and doctors chairs with what looked like attachments that could be used to tie people to them. There were butt plugs that made Louis’ eyes water at just the thought of them. There were speculums, and needles, and sharps containers, and things that Louis thought could probably be banned under the Geneva convention, but what there was not was a Curly Haired Lube Monster.

Sighing he backed out of the room into the shop proper, sure he would never be able to get the image of some of the items out of his mind. Mr March was back at the till, smirk still in place, polishing a chrome object that looked suspiciously like a cock. Louis didn’t want to think about where it might go or why exactly Mr March needed to clean it.

He was just about to head up the stairs when a loud Irish voice came booming from a door behind the till.

“Oi Zayn, What are we doing tonight?” The voice called, and Louis wasn’t nosy by nature but he had already humiliated himself looking for Curly here, he may as well get any information he could, and the voice had called Mr March ‘Zayn’ which meant he was the owner and the name from Curly’s lube.

“Nothing much, man.” Louis could hear the false nonchalance in Zayn’s voice and it shocked him slightly, Mr Model seemed to be flustered? “Might head down to Madame JoJo’s, it’s White Heat tonight and Marcus always gives me a few drinks tokens.”

Raucous laughter spilled from the back room, followed by a man about Louis’ height with bottle blonde hair and a bright smile.

“You mean you are going to moon over hot bartender Liam again?” The blonde had pulled Zayn into a headlock and was currently mussing the perfect quiff, to squawks of protest from Mr March.

“Fuck. Off. Niall.” Came the response, through gritted teeth. “How many times do I have to tell you I do not fancy Liam. I just like JoJo’s and White Heat is always fun. Anyway, Harry is coming so you can take the piss out of him and whatever ridiculous floral shirt he has on, rather than messing with my love life.”

“Fuck yeah, I love a good Harry sex story” The grin that spread across the blonde Irishman’s face was blinding, but fell upon seeing Mr March shake his head sadly.

“Haven’t you heard? He’s moping, no new sex stories. Apparently a few weeks ago he met the one on the way home from some lads place and the one got away. No one else will do.”

“Yeah, until he meets the next boy, you know his infatuations don’t last and before we know it there will be more baby oil mishap stories than we know what to do with.” The blonde’s gleeful cackle grew quieter as he raced upstairs away from the bemused look on Zayn’s face. Louis was distracted by the mention of floral shirts. Could it be? Were they talking about Curly? It was a stretch, Louis knew that, and so the way his heart-rate had sped up was just ridiculous, but there was a small glimmer of hope and apparently that was enough for him these days. And the one? Well that was best not thought about.

Putting down the bright pink dildo he had been pretending to be interested in for the past five minutes, he rushed up the stairs and into the sunny upstairs shop, eyes blinking after the gloom of the basement. He wasn’t quite sure where he was heading to but wherever it was he needed to be away from Zayn’s and thoughts of curls and lube and... Louis needed a drink. As sad as it may be to go drinking alone in Soho on a Tuesday, he headed quickly for a nearby cocktail bar and ordered himself a whisky sour. Three drinks later and he was wrapping his jacket around him against the cooling evening. It was summer but apparently the weather hadn’t got the memo on that. He intended to head down to Picadilly but before he knew it his feet had brought him to Madame JoJo’s and his traitorous mouth had asked for entry for one. He must be insane. He had to be at work for eight in the morning, now was not the time to rediscover a penchant for Tuesday night clubbing.

 

The dark club was already reverberating to whatever non descript indie band were playing on the stage, Louis hadn’t heard of them and didn’t think he had exactly been missing out. Heading to the bar he asked for a beer from a man with impressive muscles who reminded Louis of a young David Beckham. This must be hot bartender Liam, at least Mr March had pretty good taste. There were a couple of booths down one side of the club, beside the sunken dance floor which housed the stage, terrible band, and a few people dancing who lacked any kind of enthusiasm. Grabbing the booth farthest from the bar Louis angled himself so he could see the door to the club. If he was going to stay here for one drink he may as well keep an eye out for Curly.

Before long the club filled, despite the succession of lacklustre indie bands with forgettable names and even more forgettable songs, and Louis lost sight of the door. He tried to keep an eye out for shiny chocolate coloured curls as he nursed his beer, but it still came as a shock when the blonde Irishman and Mr March sat in the booth next to his, arguing loudly over whether or not Zayn had been flirting with Baby Becks at the bar. Louis obviously wasn’t trying to listen in to their conversation for the second time in a day, he wasn’t a crazy stalker after all, but when talk turned to the mysterious Harry and his moping, he couldn’t help himself.

“So what’s the craic with this fella Haz likes then?” Apparently Irish accents carry well in dingy clubs.

“Fuck knows man, you know what he’s like. Keeps bugging me to ask if some blue eyed bloke in a suit and Burberry coat has been in the shop, since apparently Harry managed to launch his emergency lube supply at the poor man when he opened his book and it was one of ours. Honestly only Harry could think to use a sachet of lube as a fucking bookmark. Told him if the fella does come in I’ll tell him to back off pretty damn quick as thats some stalker vibes right there, but Haz seems to think it’s romantic” The model spoke slowly, thoughtfully, drawling his words almost, sipping absently at his pint as he did so, not even aware of the fact that every word he said made Louis’ breathing get harder and heart beat faster.

“Why the fuck is this the first I’ve heard of it?” Blondie was almost doubled over with laughter now, clutching at his stomach as he wheezed out the response. “I own the joint too.”

“Yeah but you hate customers and avoid work at all costs, so you know.”

The next band chose that moment to start playing with a loud crash of drums and a screech from the lead singer. Perfect bloody timing, just as Louis was getting confirmation that Harry was indeed Curly, and Louis was Mr Blue Eyes. And then there was the fact that Zayn thought he was a stalker for even coming into the shop, or would think so, let alone for having followed Zayn and Blondie to a club.

He was just draining his beer debating one more to help him deal with the new information, when a commotion at the next table grabbed his attention. Looking up all of Louis’ worst nightmares came true at once, because there was Curly Harry, resplendent in ridiculous floral shirt and ripped jeans with what looked to be pink shiny boots, but couldn’t be because no one actually wore those. Louis lowered his face, hoping that the shadows in the club would be his salvation.

Things got even worse when Louis noticed that Harry had his arm wrapped around the waist of the girl with the eyebrows from the shop, and she was cuddled into his shoulder. Well that was interesting. Blondie’s words from earlier about Curly Harry’s phases came back to him and he wondered whether Harry had just simply moved on, and moved on to a girl at that. Fuck. Louis was suddenly regretting taking the booth that meant he had to walk past Harry’s table to escape the club.

One last look, that was all he needed, and that was what would be his downfall. He raised his eyes, drinking in curls and the ridiculous shirt, and all of a sudden Harry raised his eyes to Louis too, locking on his gaze, his face a picture of shock. Something broke in Louis and he stood quickly, pushing past the group before Harry could react. As he climbed the steps to street level he felt a hand on his wrist and it felt like he had been branded by the touch. Whirling around to meet his pursuer he saw not Harry but, Baby Becks.

What? Louis wasn’t quite sure what was going on, until he saw Baby Becks holding his card out to him. Of course, he had forgotten to close out his tab.

“Hey, you forgot this. I didn’t want you to be stuck.” Louis looked at the barman incredulously as he spoke, not sure exactly how to respond to such kindness from a stranger. A stranger who had left a busy bar to follow someone he had never seen before and return their card.

“Uh, thanks man. Thats really good of you, um, thanks.” Louis was not at his most eloquent, but it wasn’t often that he was taken by surprise. His life was normally quite predictable and organised.

Baby Becks was shrugging, drawing a cigarette from behind his ear as he followed Louis out the front door.

“No problem,” He winked as he flicked his lighter, “May as well take my break now I’m out here.”

Was Baby Becks flirting? It had been so long since someone had flirted with Louis that he wasn’t really sure, but it felt like it. As he looked up at the bartender he was aware that the other man’s gaze was currently over his shoulder, face brightening in recognition.

“Harry! Hey man, good to see you!” And fuck, Louis had almost forgotten what he was running from in his confusion over hot bartender Liam and the possible, maybe, but probably not, flirting.

“Hey, how are you Li?” That slow drawl, deep and resonating, Louis was fucked. And then more fucked, a hand on his shoulder, turning him towards Harry and his damn curls and pretty lips.

“Is this a coincidence?” The green eyes bored into him, freezing Louis in place, unable to speak, move, hardly able to breath. Wrenching free from Curly’s gaze he stared at a point over his shoulder, trying desperately to pull himself together enough to answer.

“No.” He said honestly, “But don’t worry, I’m going now. I won’t bother you again. Sorry, just. Sorry.”

Pushing away from confused green eyes and an even more confused looking Baby Becks, he almost ran to the corner of Wardour Street, desperately hailing a cab, willing to swallow the cost if it just got him out of there.

\---

“What the hell was that?” Liam’s confusion cut through Harry’s own, bringing him back to the present.

“Fuck. Liam. Fuck. He just ran off. What?” Harry was incredulous. Twice he had lost the most beautiful fucking man he had ever seen, twice in two weeks.

“Did you get his name? Do you know who he is?” He wasn’t listening to anything Liam was saying back, just rambling in shock at having seen the man in their club, sat behind his friends. Did that mean the man had been to the shop? Had he been looking for Harry? He said it hadn’t been a coincidence, maybe fate was trying to put them together.

“Harry!” Liam was shaking his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “His name is Louis, Louis Tomlinson. I had to return his card to him after he ran out in a blind panic.”

Louis. It suited him, which Harry knew was ridiculous to say when he only had two slightly insane interactions with the man to go off. Maybe it would be enough to find him? Harry wasn’t above facebook stalking but after Louis’ reaction to seeing him tonight he wasn’t sure that was wise. Either way Harry really wasn’t in the mood to go back to his friends, and so he asked Liam to make an excuse for him, knowing Zayn would kill him for making him actually interact with Liam Payne love of his life, but not really caring.

The next morning when Harry rolled into Sister Rays he was in a foul mood. Facebook had turned up absolutely nothing, nor had twitter. How was it possible in this day and age for someone to not have a digital footprint? The only thing he had found was a staff page at a Barristers chambers under the name Louis Tomlinson, but there was no photo. Most of the other barristers had head shots, but it seemed the younger ones hadn’t had theirs taken yet, so he wasn’t even sure that this Louis was his Louis. There was a biography, mostly discussing educational and legal achievements of the mystery man, but nothing that told Harry where he lived or where he went for coffee, and okay, Harry was being a stalker but he was long past the point of caring.

With nothing to go on Harry was sulking. He had been sulking for the past two weeks, ever since the lube incident, but last night had amped the sulk up by about ten levels. Even Perrie from the coffee shop across the road bringing him a latte while she browsed vinyl on her lunch couldn’t cheer him up, and Perrie was usually able to tease him out of the worst of moods.

After his shift he ended up in Zayn’s flopped in the back room of the shop watching Niall catalogue a new delivery of vibrators. He didn’t even have the energy to press his friends about whether Louis had been to the shop, but Niall was volunteering information anyway, telling him how Louis had mostly stood by the dildos, and had seemed engrossed in a bright pink one that Niall did not approve of, but that Zayn thought he had looked pretty shell shocked by the dungeon room. Zayn, for his part, was having none of it. He had declared Louis a creep who went hunting in sex shops for boys who threw lube at him, and then had refused to talk to Harry over the Liam incident of the night before. Harry thought Zayn should be pleased he had given him a reason to talk to Liam, but apparently it had not gone well if Niall’s teasing was anything to go by. How anyone who looked like Zayn could struggle to pick up guys was a mystery, but apparently Zayn didn’t see himself the way everyone else did.

Two days of sulking passed, and if on Friday evening Harry ended up in a bar near the chambers mystery Louis worked at, then that was none of anyone else’s business. He couldn’t just sit around and wait for fate to decide to intervene again, and so he was following the one sketchy lead he had. He sat in the back of the bar, pint of something in front of him, not really paying any attention to the drink. His eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, letting in a steady stream of young barristers in suits that seemed to range in shade from black to slightly-less-black. It was like some odd funeral was happening around him, one where everyone was happily toasting the death of the working week and talking in legal gibberish. The night wore on and there was no sign of his Louis. The Louis who worked near here could well be in the bar, and Harry would never know that his one lead was false. This really was a pretty dumb plan.

Zoning out of the revelry around him he focused on his third pint of the night. He should just give up and head home to New Cross. He had an early shift in the shop tomorrow and Saturdays were always busy. Just as he was getting his bag together and slipping his coat on he heard a snippet of conversation which caught his attention.

“Mate! You should stay, Louis’ll be along soon and then we can head somewhere better. He just got caught up with a case that he’s assisting on Monday.”

The speaker was a very well spoken blonde man who had Eton and Oxbridge written all over him. Harry rolled his eyes a bit at the guys accent but couldn’t deny the way his heart sped up at the thought of Louis being here, in this bar, soon. Even if it wasn’t his Louis, it at least eliminated a possibility.

But it was his Louis. Fifteen minutes later the door to the bar opened and in swept Louis. Charcoal suit and burberry coat, hair styled in a soft quiff, just as Harry remembered from their first meeting on the tube. And fuck. Louis was still one of the most beautiful men Harry had ever seen, even through a crowded bar when he could barely even catch a glimpse of the eyes and the cheekbones that had made him notice Louis in the first place.

Harry’s hand tightened on his glass. He hadn’t exactly thought through what he would say to Louis when he found him. _Hi, my friend behind the bar got your name and so I stalked you on the internet and came here to see if a mystery man with your name might possibly show up, marry me?_ He wished the boys were here, or Cara, someone who could give him a good pep talk and stop him from fucking this up even more than he already had. Louis had run away from him twice after all.

But there was no way he was letting the chance to speak to Louis go again, not after so many near misses. So he watched wistfully as Louis took off his coat and laid it on the back of a chair, loosening his tie and undoing his top shirt button. How could anyone do such mundane actions in such a graceful and endearing way? Harry was starting to sound like Zayn, or like a protagonist in a cheesy love song. He watched as Louis embraced his friends and as his bright laughter drifted across the room. He watched as Louis turned his head to come towards the bar. And he watched as Louis’ eyes darkened in recognition and his previously bright smile set into a thin line on his face.

That was all the answer Harry should need, but he was frozen to his barstool, helpless to leave as Louis headed in his direction. Louis stood about two feet away from him as he ordered a drink, and then turned towards Harry and hissed.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Who the fuck are you? And more to the point how the fuck did you find me?” Louis looked furious, but quickly schooled his expression when the bartender came back over and was the picture of jovial politeness. Which just made the way he looked at Harry even worse.

“I um, Liam, the bartender?” Louis nodded at him to continue. “He remembered your name from your card and um, well I um, I googled you and the only thing that came up was a page on your chambers’ site.”

“So you decided to just come down to a bar I _might_ come to and hang out just on the off chance? I thought you were odd when you threw a sachet of lube at me but this is off the charts, mate.” Louis just looked confused, despite the bite in his words, his tone had softened dramatically. Harry just wanted to reach out and touch him. Instead he shrugged an agreement at Louis, knowing he looked quite insane.

“I’m Harry,” he offered his hand out, trying to convey a confidence he didn’t feel.

“Louis, but you know that.” Louis’ face was steely still, but he took Harry’s proffered hand and shook it for just a moment too long. Was Harry imagining the energy that fizzed through him at Louis’ touch? Was it possible to be this attracted to someone and it be a one way street?

“Look, I really am sorry about how we met, but I’m not sorry _that_ we met. I never thought I’d see you again but then you were in the bar and, and you said it wasn’t a coincidence. So I thought maybe, possibly, you felt something too? I know this is strange, I know I look insane but,” Louis cut Harry’s rambling off with a finger over his mouth and Harry squeaked in surprise at the soft touch.

“You’re rambling.” Louis sighed, finger still resting lightly on Harry’s lips. “It’s not just you, it wasn’t just you. But, I don’t know how this is supposed to work? We’ve both crossed some really weird lines to meet. We know literally nothing about each other. I think it might all be too strange to ever be more than one of those stories you tell your mates when you have had a few.”

Louis looked pained, like he didn’t quite believe the words he was saying. As his finger fell from Harry’s lips he sighed and took a long draw from his pint, body tensed, looking like he might be seconds away from fleeing.

“Doesn’t the fact we both felt the need to cross those lines mean something? Are you really going to just walk away and never know?” Harry could hear the pleading tone in his voice but this might be his only chance.

Louis’ eyes seemed to be swirling with a million emotions, quick flashes that Harry couldn’t grasp hold of long enough to decipher. Harry felt like he was standing on a cliff edge, still utterly confused about why he had such an instant connection to this stranger, terrified that he might never get a chance to find out the reason.

Then lips. Soft lips, crashing into his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always I am [conscious--ramblings](http://conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Come say hi  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags a bit for this story, so please have a check and make sure you are still ok with it. I had a dream last night where one of my friends told me off for not tagging the kink that won't happen for a while yet so... yeah. 
> 
> Updating slightly earlier then I planned because my darling friend who actually threw lube at a stranger on the tube is here and wants me to tell the next segment. Sadly he didn't find love in the deal.
> 
> There are some songs linked in this chapter. Give them a listen, the whole song doesn't necessarily say what Harry wants them to, but the parts he quotes do.

There was no finesse, it wasn’t a romantic fairytale first kiss. Louis wasn’t even quite sure why he had done it, apart from the fact he didn’t know what to do and was so utterly confused by his feelings for the man now sitting shell shocked a foot away from him. But it was possibly the greatest kiss of Louis’ life. There was electricity coursing through him and he could still feel Harry’s lips on his.

So Louis did what any reasonable twenty five year old man would do after their first kiss in two years, he turned to the bar and ordered two shots of tequila. He quickly downed one, not bothering to wait for the salt and lemon the bartender was carrying over, and shoved the other in Harry’s direction down the bar. Dutch courage dealt with he turned towards Harry just in time to catch the sinful sight of full lips wrapping around the rim of the shot glass and swathes of long neck as Harry threw his head back to swallow. _Christ_.

Holding up a hand to Harry to signal him to stay, he turned to head over to his friends. Quickly making excuses that he wasn’t up for a night out after all before he came back to the bar, grabbed Harry’s hand, and dragged him from the pub.

“Don’t talk.” Louis ordered before heading in the direction of the Thames. Past the gothic beauty of the Royal Courts, through the Dickensian warren that was Middle Temple, Louis didn’t once drop Harry’s hand. As they finally reached the embankment, London sprawling and lit up by a million twinkling lights that reflected off the dark expanse of water in the night, Louis turned to Harry, brow furrowed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” His voice was small and unsteady and he hated it. Louis was controlled and strong and he didn’t need anyone. He had proved that to himself the day Aiden had left and he had gone into bar school like nothing had happened. He had continued to prove that every day since as his walls got thicker and taller with every case won, every meal eaten alone and every day gone without another human to lean on in his life. Who had given Harry the right to threaten to change that? Louis wanted to fight whoever it was.

He turned away and leaned on the stone wall overlooking the river, chest heaving and vision blurred. When Harry’s hand fell uncertainly on his shoulder he ran. He wasn’t proud of the fact, but he ran.

The last words he heard from Harry were a shouted promise that he wouldn’t give up and one day he would make Louis stop running, and Louis hoped to any deity who might listen that that was true.

 

The weather that weekend matched Louis’ mood. The heatwave they had been having broke as he walked home from the tube with thunder, lightning and torrential rain echoing his thoughts. Crossing Shepherds Bush green he didn’t even bother trying to hurry or cover his head, letting the rain soak into the suit that wasn’t nearly as expensive as he would have liked. The downpour managed to dull the usual assault on the senses that the million fast food places on Goldhawke Road provided, washing away the dirt and smells and making everything new.

The rain continued all weekend, sluicing down the windows of the small flat, rushing out of the broken guttering like a waterfall. And Louis moped. He didn’t even know why he was moping over a man he had met three times for a grand total of almost an hour, but he just couldn’t shake the image of Harry from his mind. The fated lube packet which had started the whole thing lay on his bedside table, in the circle of warm light from his lamp that cut through the gloom of his room. As Louis lay on his side in bed, wrapped in his duvet, he stared at it morosely. Nothing was capturing his interest. He tried work, netflix, porn, food, alcohol and even some weed he found in a drawer (god knows how old that was), but nothing stuck. Before long he would find himself staring at the packet again, wondering just what Harry might be doing at that moment.

 

 

Monday morning rolled around like they always do, and Louis found himself on autopilot on the way to work. The rain was still falling as he arrived at chambers, for once praising the fact that he worked in the one modern building in Lincoln’s and so wouldn’t be having to spend the day shifting buckets around an increasingly leaky office.

On his desk was the usual pile of manilla envelopes, case files, and notes from colleagues. He would deal with them all after he got back from court, which today was in Southwark of all places. Thankfully the QC he was assisting had ordered a cab to take them there, so grabbing his files he stepped out into the rain once more, wondering when in all of this the rain would deign to wash him clean like it had his road.

Many hours and many cups of coffee later they had lost, and Louis’ mood just continued on it’s downward spiral, plumbing depths he hadn’t even known he possessed. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so distracted by curls and lips and floral bloody shirts then he would have prepared better this weekend and could have been more help. The old QC didn’t seem so bothered, reassuring Louis that it had been a case doomed to fail from the start, but that didn’t seem to impact on his pity party.

Finally sorting through his pile of post he found a strange package with his name written on, but no address, no stamps, no other information. Just ‘ _Louis Tomlinson, Hardwike_ ’. He opened the brown wrapping, and discovered a record inside. Vinyl? Who in gods name still even listened to vinyl? Louis couldn’t remember the last time he had even seen a record player outside of some pretentious Shoreditch bar. Then recognition dawned, and a tendril of hope bloomed in his heart. Hipster books, floral shirts, skinny jeans, ridiculous boots, vinyl, it all seemed to go together.

Turning to look at the door to his room, stupidly checking to see if the sender was still here, despite that being insane. Nick, whom he shared rooms with, was out of town this week, which was a blessing considering Louis’ mood, seeing Nick always seemed to take any negative emotion from Louis as a personal challenge. It did mean, however, that Nick wasn’t here to ask about the package. Had someone hand delivered it? Had the clerks said anything? For once he missed the fountain of all chambers gossip that was Nicholas Grimshaw. Nick also knew a hell of a lot more about popular music than Louis. His father and grandfather and many generations before that had been called to the bar, and so Nick had been a shoo-in when it came to applying for pupilage. The only rebellion Nick had managed was going into commercial rather than criminal law, and applying to a chambers outside of Inner Temple. So where Louis had been slogging his guts out trying to prove he was as good as the Oxbridge clones, Nick had been one of those clones, which left him a lot more time to get drunk and go to gigs than Louis had had.

His attention turned back to the record in his hand. The cover was washed out white, a messed up bed with white sheets against pale skin of two people lying apart from each other. Small writing identified it as by Nathaniel Rateliff.

There was a sticky note on the back of the album

_I listen to this when my heart hurts. Listen to it all, but[Nothing to Show For](https://soundcloud.com/nathaniel-rateliff/nothing-to-show-for-2) is the one that makes me think of you. _

_You led me into flames. I want to burn with you. But after all we’ve got nothing to show for this._

_Give me something. H_

Louis rolled his eyes at the over dramatic note. He could pretend to be the less affected partner in the face of Harry’s poetic missives. Who even was this ridiculous Byronic child anyway? Who sent records to people at their work with romantic notes attached?

Louis didn't have access to a record player, of course, and so he decided to just ignore the gift. It was stupid anyway. One kiss, two stalking incidents and one packet of lube were not the basis for poetic admissions that you wanted to burn with someone. That someone led you into flames. No matter how life changing that kiss may have been. So shoving the record into his bag he turned back to his desk, switching on his laptop and settling down to work.

It took him all of an hour before he had opened a new search for the singer, plugged in his headphones, and was listening to the song. Two minutes later he had opened another search window and googled record players and was clicking buy on Amazon before he even thought about it. He was utterly fucked.

\---

Harry spent an inordinate amount of time that week in Lincoln's Inn. Arriving early in the morning to drop off vinyl for Louis, hoping no one saw him. His bedroom was a mess of discarded post it notes with ever more ridiculously poetic love notes inscribed on them and then scribbled out with angry strokes. He couldn't even tell the boys about this, as he knew they would take the piss mercilessly for years.

Harry didn't do relationships. His longest had been two weeks, and had basically just involved sex. He was twenty three and had been playing the field since he was sixteen and first got a fake ID good enough to sneak into the bars on Canal Street back home. After moving to London just before his eighteenth birthday for uni he had continued to go out frequently, picking up men, women, it didn't really matter so long as they were attractive in some way. He wasn't a slut, it wasn't like there was a different person in his bed every night, in fact he spent more nights in bed with Cara than anyone else and she was like his second sister, but he did ok. He could go out alone and make the party come to him, old men gladly buying him drinks in exchange for a dimpled grin, younger men flocking for his attention. He'd felt infatuation sure, he'd mooned after men for weeks at a time. But it was never like this, he'd never felt like he couldn't actually continue to get on with his life if he never kissed that person again.

The kiss. Rough and unprecedented as it had been, Harry thought he had never tasted anything sweeter than Louis' lips. It had been like he had come home, like Louis' lips were the only ones he was meant to kiss. He knew that was crazy. Knew that he was putting Louis on a pedestal he likely didn't deserve. Knew this was probably doomed to end in failure. Knew also that there was nothing he could do now he was on this path.

Tuesday was still thunderstorms and rain, and Harry sent the first EP by James Bay, with the lyrics from move together etched onto the small note

_L, listen to[Move Together](https://soundcloud.com/jamesbaymusic/move-together-the-dark-of-the). We didn't get tonight, we might not have tomorrow_   
_So I'm done whispering._   
_H_

Wednesday was bright sunshine and blistering heat, London finally remembering it was early August and was meant to be summer. Harry decided to match the weather with an album by Those Dancing Days. Maybe if Louis wasn’t a fan of the blues then Harry could win him over with Swedish pop.

 

_Incase you hate the blues, I wanted to give you options to understand what I am saying. I dream about you, do you[dream about me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2qe3T5JW-Rs)?_

_I used to believe in faith_

_You’ve made me believe in fairytales_

_H_

On Wednesday evening Harry ended up in the bar again with Zayn and Niall, not even sure what night was on but willing to sit through most things to further the cause of Zayn’s love life. They had been friends for five years, since they had been introduced at a party by Cara, and Harry had never seen him as obsessed as he was with Liam. Cara had met Zayn through work of course, and had taken Harry under her wing a year earlier when they met at a gig. Harry had been underage and had somehow persuaded the older girl to buy him drinks for three months before he had to admit to his age when she showed up at his birthday party to a “Happy 18th” banner. She had never let Harry live it down, bemoaning the fact he had coerced her into breaking the law on a frequent basis, but back and forth banter was the basis of their deep and incredibly platonic love affair. Cara was his sister, mum and wife rolled into one, and the only reason why his mum ever let him come back after a visit home. If Cara was around then his mum reasoned that he would be ok, her being five years older than him and apparently far more sensible. That really just showed that his mum didn’t know Cara very well, but ever since she had looked after Harry when he was sick one time his mum would not hear a word against her.

As they sat in the bar Harry could not help but glance at the door every few seconds to check if Louis might be coming in. This was one of only two places that Louis knew to connect with Harry after all, and maybe the swedish pop had finally done the job of wooing the barrister. What kind of music did barrister’s like anyway? Maybe he had been going about this all wrong? Perhaps he should try disco or classical or something else that he probably couldn’t source in the record store he worked in.

Sending Louis music was the most intimate declaration of his feelings that Harry could imagine, and it quite scared him being laid this bare to someone who might never even acknowledge the gestures. Music was what motivated every moment of Harry’s life, there was a constant soundtrack running in his brain, but if people asked him to talk about his own personal loves in music he would clam up. It was just too intimate, too close to the truth of what made him tick. If someone could see every track that Harry listened to they would know far more about Harry than he thought another human had a right to know. That could stay between him, his record player and his ipod. It was quite stupid, he knew, when he worked in a record shop and recommended music for eight hours a day, five days a week, but that was more about reading the customer and then pretending that he liked the tracks he was suggesting. He didn’t have to give up a part of his soul for that. But apparently he was willing to give up that and more for this stranger who had somehow burrowed under Harry’s skin.

Zayn eventually smacked Harry on the head with a packet of tobacco after an hour of mooning at the door, while Niall complained that between Zayn and Harry he wasn’t sure which was more disgustingly love sick. In gesture of appeasement Harry went to the bar, buying a round and also tipping Liam off that Zayn was about to go outside to smoke, so the bartender had the opportunity to sync his break to coincide. Liam was an enigma that Harry couldn’t quite decipher, and nothing annoyed him more than not being able to get a read on a person. Liam was calm and collected and rarely let his professional demeanor slip. He had a smile and a joke for everyone who walked into JoJo’s, with an uncanny ability to put anyone at ease. The times he did slip seemed to often involve Zayn. Harry had yet to work out if the dark look he reserved only for Zayn was desire or hatred, but either way it scared him. The intensity of emotion looked out of place on Liam’s placid face, and the cognitive dissonance it created threw Harry every time.

He was rewarded five minutes later when Zayn headed upstairs to smoke and Liam slipped out of the door thirty seconds later. Maybe there was hope for them after all, and maybe that meant the universe was in a generous mood and would also see fit to smile upon Harry. When Zayn finally returned twenty minutes later there was a small private smile hovering on his lips, and with some unspoken agreement neither Niall nor Harry commented on it, both unwilling to intrude on Zayn’s fragile happiness.

The night ended, as so many did, on the night bus back to New Cross, Zayn asleep on Niall’s shoulder and Harry making conversation with a man who had apparently just got out of jail in Columbia for drug possession. The people you met on the night bus was one of London’s greatest charms in Harry’s opinion and he collected and relished their stories and quirks with glee, tucking them away in his brain for when he finally wrote the novel that was apparently lurking in each of us.

 

After a few broken hours of sleep Harry was back on the bus into central London, walking past business men in suits clutching Starbucks as he made his way through to Lincoln’s from Holborn. Today he had chosen another Swedish band, First Aid Kit, and the note attached to the record read;

_Dearest L, Listen to[Emmylou](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PC57z-oDPLs)._

_I’m not asking much of you,_

_Just sing, little darling, sing with me_

_H_

This time he didn’t run from Lincoln’s, instead finding a bench in the Inn’s square and sitting on it, coat pulled around him and unseasonal beanie dragged low over his curls. He just wanted to catch a glimpse of Louis as he arrived at work, that would be enough for him, a sip of water to quench his thirst.

Louis looked divine, of course, when he arrived half an hour after Harry had settled in. There was a cigarette between his teeth and he quickly ground it out under his shoe as he awkwardly wrestled the box he was carrying under one arm. Harry recognised it as a crosley portable record player, and his heart leapt into his mouth. Had Louis really gone and bought a turntable to listen to the gifts Harry was sending? Harry desperately didn’t want to hold out hope but his heart was flip-flopping inside his chest and he thought that ship had probably already sailed.

Walking back into Soho he couldn’t help the feeling that he was walking on clouds, which lasted all of about ten minutes before crippling anxiety replaced it. It was one thing to send Louis music and notes when he had thought Louis would most likely not listen to them, it was quite another to know he had an audience for his grand romantic gesture. The panic over what to send tomorrow almost caused him to throw up before he reached the shop, and throughout his day he spent more time checking the stacks for his own personal use than he did helping customers.

 

Friday rolled around bright and crisp, and Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to send Louis anything for two whole days and so this had to be good. He had eventually decided on The Horrors and ‘I only think of you’. There was no romantic note this time, Harry having been unable to think of anything that didn’t just outright declare love. So just the track number and lyrics today.

_L,[Track 7](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjTIbuaGozU). Don’t go, cause you know I will follow,_

_You know, if I lose you I’ll go mad_

_H_

\---

Louis sat in his office trying to work, but unable to focus on anything but the box to his new record player. He had looked up each track Harry had highlighted on the internet, but he wanted to be able to listen to the whole albums, work out exactly why Harry had chosen these songs. He was thwarted by the fact Nick had returned to work and had been telling Louis in great detail all about his trip to New York. Louis loved Nick, he was probably Louis’ closest friend, but right now he was driving him insane with inane chatter about the burger he had eaten in some dive in Brooklyn that Nick swore was where the real New Yorkers ate and was so much more authentic than the places they had been to together last summer in Manhattan.

Rolling his eyes he ran a finger over the latest note from Harry. He had at least heard of The Horrors, which was a first this week. His musical horizons had definitely been expanded upon, and while Nick often insisted on BBC 6 in the office, he had never been very good at knowing which artists sung the songs he liked before. But within a week he had become an expert on trivia on the four albums he had received so far. If there was one thing Louis knew it was research and facts, and having something to focus on made him feel far more confident about what he planned to do tomorrow.

“So Tommo, any grand plans for the weekend?” Nick had returned from grabbing them both a coffee from the kitchen, no matter how many times Louis told him he prefered tea Nick refused to kow to pressure. Grimacing, Louis took a sip of the awful instant coffee, making a mental note to buy Nick a coffee maker for Christmas.

“Not much man, not much. I will probably be in here on Sunday to prepare for the Costain case, no rest for the wicked and all that.” Louis didn’t want to admit that he had optimistically left his whole weekend free in the hopes he would be spending it with Harry.

While at first he had wanted to ask Nick about the records he was receiving, the longer it went on the more it felt like something to keep to himself. The intimacy of what Harry was sending him was astounding, Louis could only hope to be as open about himself as the curly lube monster appeared to be. He had been, once upon a time. When he was nineteen and newly out at University he had been so open it made him blush to look back on it. He and Aiden had fallen in love in such a fairytale manner that he had always joked it was like Richard Curtis was directing his life. Louis had been all in, he had thought Aiden would always be there, and so when suddenly he wasn’t, Louis had been more devastated than he would ever tell anyone. He had started to build walls, quickly realising he was pretty good at being alone, and refusing to give anyone the power to pull the rug from under him like his ex had done. Aiden was doing well, he heard, had recently gotten engaged. It seemed so quick to Louis, they had been together for four years and it had taken them over 3 years to discuss marriage, and now they had been split up for only two and Aiden was getting married to a man Louis had never even met. It was funny how life could work.

For once Louis turned down the obligatory friday evening drinks with bar school friends, opting instead to head home and listen to every album he had been sent this week in their entirety. A bottle of wine and eggs on toast later, he was a nervous wreck. His plan wasn’t well thought out, but he wasn’t going to run anymore. This might be nothing, there might be no chemistry once they actually talked, but he was damned if he would let his past stop him having a chance at something, even if that something was just a shag and five new albums. Thinking that there would probably be nothing serious in this seemed to be helping his nerves, and finally at 1am, after way too much nicotine and wine, he fell into a restless sleep.

By eleven the next morning Louis was in Soho. Grabbing a coffee he made his way towards Zayn’s, not sure how else to find Harry and the damn curls that had haunted his dreams for weeks. When he got to the shop, however, he discovered that they didn’t open till twelve. Three cups of tea and twelve cigarettes butts lay on the floor beside him when the girl with the eyebrows appeared to unlock the door, said eyebrows quirked at Louis in surprise.

“You’re him aren’t you?” She asked bluntly, letting him into the shop as she set about opening shutters and switching on lights and the till.

“I’m Louis?” How could introducing himself have become a question. He was Louis bloody Tomlinson, junior barrister, he literally made his living off his eloquence and articulateness, and yet he couldn’t introduce himself to the girl Harry had been wrapped around last time he had seen her.

“Cara. Charmed I’m sure.” She deadpanned before grinning at him, a goofy smile that looked out of place with her striking features. “You’d better be here to find Harry, cause I will fucking kill that boy if he complains about you one more time.”

“Yeah? I mean, um, I am, I want to.” Cara laughed at him as he stuttered, but it wasn’t a cruel laugh.

“He started his shift at eleven, he has lunch at two, and is meant to be coming down here to see us, but I will sacrifice lunch with Haz if it means you two nutters can get your shit together.” She had grabbed a pen and was drawing a map. “Sister Ray’s, it’s a record shop, about three minutes from here. You can’t get lost but if you hit Oxford street you have gone too far. Good luck.”

With that she grabbed his shoulders, spun him around and bodily shoved him out of the door, calling after him to look after Harry and come for a pint soon.

Five minutes later, after a wrong turn despite Cara’s promises, he opened the door to the record store. Hunting through the stacks he found a copy of the first album Harry had sent him, and went to the counter. Harry wasn’t there, which rather put a dint in his plans. He hadn’t thought about what to do if Harry wasn’t around, especially after Cara had told him he was working.

A ginger man with a friendly face greeted him instead, holding out his hand for the record which Louis was now clutching protectively to his chest.

“Can I help, mate?” The ginger asked, looking ever so slightly confused by Louis’ behaviour.

“I was.” Deep breath. “I was wondering if Harry was in?”

The ginger’s eyes narrowed at Louis and then widened in shock as he noted the album Louis was holding.

“You’re _him_ ” Louis heard for the second time today and nodded mutely. “Wow. Mate this is awesome. Haz just ran to get us coffee, he’ll be back in five minutes. Oh fuck, I can’t wait to see his...” he trailed off, mischievous grin taking over his face as he grabbed the record from Louis and spun around to the store’s sound system. Putting on the album he dropped the needle into the groove, smiling broadly when the strains of Nathaniel Rateliff filled the store.

Louis wasn’t sure what to do with himself while he waited, so he just awkwardly loitered by the cash desk, ginger grinning at him manically between customers. Five minutes and nearly two songs later the front door banged open to a loud groan.

“Ed! What the fuck have I told you about playing this album? I can’t listen to it right...” Harry’s angry shouts tapered off as he rounded the corner of a record stand and saw Louis standing by the counter. Ed was looking between the two of them, laughing and apparently filming the moment on his phone.

“Mate! Your face! I need to snapchat this to everyone we know.” But Harry didn’t seem to be listening. He was just staring at Louis, coffees in hand, not saying anything, face giving nothing away.

“Hi” Louis muttered, shuffling his feet and resisting the urge to look away from Harry’s fierce gaze.

“Hi” Harry returned finally, setting the coffees down and taking a step closer to Louis.

“I think I’m done running? I’d um, I’d like to get to know you, if that’s ok?”

“Oh... Wow. Umm, I don’t get off work till seven, but come back?” Harry’s tone was still unsure, like a person talking to a particularly skittish horse.

“Harry just got a half day,” Ed declared from behind the counter. “Niall said he’d cover when I sent him a picture of your faces.”

Louis grabbed Harry’s hand before the younger man could argue, and pulled him from the shop, shouting thanks at Ed over his shoulder.

He started walking up towards Oxford Street, and they just kept walking. For the first ten minutes or so there was awkward silence, Louis not knowing what to say to Harry. He had planned a speech for the record shop, but it hadn’t quite come out of his mouth and it felt stupid in the open air as they continued northwards, hitting Regents Park before long.

“So The Horrors finally persuaded you? That’s lucky, you were in for some more obvious songs next week if I am honest.” Harry finally broke the silence as they passed into the park.

“More obvious, Harry? I wasn’t sure that was possible. And no, I was persuaded from Nathaniel, I just had to plan this out.” Louis realised he was still holding Harry’s hand, and he squeezed tighter, trying hard to not think about how clammy his hand likely was. God Harry was going to realise what a rubbish prospect Louis was and this was going to fall apart before they even reached Primrose Hill. Louis was so screwed.

Miraculously, however, Harry was squeezing Louis’ hand back and grinning at him.

“I’m _so_ glad you liked Nate! But honestly, you were due for Lissie singing _Why You Runnin’_ on Monday, so thank you for not making me stoop to that level.” Louis let out a bark of laughter at Harry’s words, and the other boys grin just grew wider, dimples puckering his cheeks. Dimples. Seriously? Once again, Louis was fucked.

They walked and talked all day, never dropping hands but also never going further than that. Harry told Louis all about his family and his friends, filling Louis in on the details about the ones he had met. Cara wasn’t as scary as she might seem apparently, and Harry thought it was hilarious when Louis told him he had thought Cara and Harry were together. Harry laughed that they got that a lot and it never got old. Zayn and Niall were his best friends and housemates, and Ed from the shop was an aspiring musician who Harry said was amazing. He learned that Harry had one sister who had just moved to Dalston, and that his parents were back home somewhere near Manchester. Louis told Harry all about his two sisters and his mum, who all still lived in Yorkshire. Louis was the oldest and had gone to Bristol for uni at the first possible opportunity, but now missed home with a strong passion.

When Harry asked about Louis’ friends he didn’t really know what to say, he mentioned bar school friends, and Nick of course, but he didn’t really have people outside of work. Aiden had taken all of their mutual friends when he left, but Louis wasn’t really willing to talk about that just yet. Hearing all about Harry’s adventures with his little group made Louis’ heart hurt a bit, wanting so much to be part of that. It seemed that finally stopping running had made him aware of what he was missing out on in more than just the romance stakes.

They lay on Primrose Hill and looked at the sky, still holding hands as they laid side by side, passing a bottle of cider between them. It was easy. That was what struck Louis the most. Harry had no pretence, he seemed to hold nothing back. They hardly knew each other and yet Harry was slowly dragging Louis into his world, one story at a time. The strangest part for Louis was how much he wanted to be dragged. Despite everything, the strange way they had met, the stalking, Louis running, his initial crippling fear of letting anyone into his life, despite it all this was easy, and Louis didn’t want the day to end.

“So are you glad I threw lube at you?” They had lapsed into a companionable silence, both watching the people and dogs that filled the park, until Harry’s words shocked a snort of laughter from an unsuspecting Louis.

“I think you are insane,” he said openly, “but yeah, yeah I am.” Harry’s smile was soft as Louis turned to him, all the teasing and banter of the day slipping away, and Louis felt his own smile mirroring in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always I am [conscious--ramblings](http://conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Come say hi  
> Next update will be Friday I think x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly earlier than promised as I have stuff on tomorrow (and cause my internet sucks but is playing ball right now to actually post it)
> 
> This chapter in particular is for Helene who loves midnight cuppas
> 
> And as always my love to Layne and Lynn for encouraging me to write and in general being my salt mates for life

As the evening cooled down Harry received a text from Zayn, and after he replied the floodgates opened, with all of Harry’s friends suddenly demanding information. He groaned.

“They’ve been giving us space apparently, but if you want to go for a drink they are in The Artichoke. It’s not far from here. But um, you don’t have to, I mean, it’s a lot. They're a lot. I get if you don’t want to...” Louis’ finger was on his lips again, a smirk playing on his face.

“Do you always ramble this much when you're nervous? I think meeting them all properly is something I should do sooner rather than later, if there's going to be a later, I mean.”

“Now who’s nervous?” Louis still had his finger on Harry’s lips and so Harry did the only thing he could think of and sucked that finger into his mouth, humming slightly around it, before grinning widely at the moan it caused Louis to swallow.

“There is a later if you want there to be one.” Harry’s statement hung in the air, changing the mood instantly. He could see Louis’ eyes flicking to his lips, and as his own did the same saw the tip of Louis’ tongue flick out to wet his. Fuck, Harry needed to feel that kiss again, but was reluctant to push too far too fast for fear of making Louis run again. They had had such an amazing day but there was something Louis was clearly holding back, and Harry thought that something was probably the reason Louis had bolted before.

Pushing himself up from the ground he pulled Louis after him, as they headed down the hill Louis let go of his hand and pulled ahead, lobbing an invitation to race over his shoulder. As Harry sprinted down the hill after Louis he noticed for the first time just how wonderfully curvy the other man was. He had been aware before that Louis had a good figure, but it had been hidden in suits and coats whenever Harry had been with him. Now, in skinny jeans and a tank top, hoodie slung over his shoulder, it was gloriously obvious. Harry lost the race, not willing to pull ahead of Louis and lose his view of that perfect arse and tiny waist. His mouth was watering by the time they reached the gates to the park, and he was thankful that the run masked the fact he would be out of breath from arousal if not for other reasons.

The walk back through the park was filled with teasing banter, some sort of barrier having been breached during the day. Louis was cheeky as hell, and quick with it. Harry spent much of the walk belly laughing, and by the time they reached the pub his stomach hurt and there were tears at the corner of his eyes. Louis’ smile was bright in return, seemingly delighted that he could have this effect on Harry.

When they reached the pub Louis quietened significantly, pausing at the bar to grab a pint for them both before Harry led him into the garden. Louis hung back behind Harry, a shadow of the man Harry had been hanging out with all day. Harry did the only thing he could think of, which was to grab Louis’ hand and squeeze, pulling him into his side as they slid onto their bench. Louis seemed to relax slightly at his touch, turning to smile at Harry before he introduced himself properly to Zayn, Niall and Cara. The next half an hour was a whirl of laughter, beer and cigarette smoke. Harry was so delighted that Louis was getting on with his friends that he didn’t notice the door to the garden open and another person started heading towards their table.

“Hi guys, hi Zayn.” Liam sounded shy in a way that Harry had never expected from him, and that combined with his sudden presence caused Harry to gape at him stupidly. By the time he had pulled himself together Liam was sitting down on their bench, causing Louis to shuffle further into Harry’s space. God bless Liam.

Zayn was grinning at Liam like all of his Christmases had come at once. Apparently when they had been at JoJo’s on Wednesday they had exchanged numbers, and Niall had taken it upon himself to invite Liam to their drinks on Zayn’s behalf. Of course he hadn’t actually told Zayn, which resulted Zayn refusing to talk to Niall while still desperately trying to maintain his cool with Liam, Harry did not want to have to referee that shouting match when they got home.

Louis was amazing with Harry’s friends, seeming to slip into an easy camaraderie with them that makes Harry’s heart fill with hope. Zayn pulled Louis into a conversation about Marvel with Liam, Cara chatted to him about his work, and Niall quickly discovered he knew Louis’ great aunt who lived in the next village to his family in Ireland. Of course he did, if there was one thing Niall could always be relied on for, it was finding people’s long lost family in Ireland who he knew through some tenuous link. Through it all Louis held hands with Harry, squeezing frequently and offering him small shy smiles every few minutes.

By the time they were ready to leave the sun had set and patio heaters filled the garden with a soft glow. Harry thought Louis had never looked prettier than right here in this garden, warm light playing over his sparkling eyes, and it was at that point when he realised he might have had a pint or two too many. The night felt charged with potential, one of those evenings where it feels like anything could happen and the world might change entirely with just a word, or a kiss.

When it became apparent that Zayn had invited Liam back to their flat to play FIFA, Niall made his excuses and decided to stay at Cara’s for the night. Harry was reluctant to let Louis’ hand go and head home, but wasn’t quite sure how to bring up the awkward conversation in front of his friends. The whole day had been better than he could ever have imagined and he was terrified of bursting the fragile bubble they seemed to be in. So when Louis took him aside and asked if he wanted to go for a walk he just bit his bottom lip and nodded shyly, not quite able to believe his luck.

After a quick round of hugs goodbye they headed up towards Camden. Again conversation flowed quickly and easily, but there was definitely something Louis was holding back from him. Being a naturally nosy person Harry found it intensely difficult to bite his tongue and not press issues. Everything was so good and the last thing he wanted to do was rock the boat.

They ended up walking along Regent’s Canal to Little Venice, barges covered with fairy lights reflected in the water, and the sounds of the animals in London Zoo provided the scenery to what Harry thought might be the start of falling in love, or in lust at least. It was only reasonable, Louis did have the best arse and prettiest face he had ever seen, and if he wanted to ravish him there and then on the towpath then no one would ever blame him.

As they made it to Paddington Louis turned to Harry and dropped his hand, smiling fondly up at him, blue eyes flashing in the dim lights. Harry was frozen in his gaze as Louis pushed up onto his tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on Harry’s lips. All of a sudden they were kissing fervently, both clearly having wanted this all night. Louis tasted of beer, cigarette smoke and home. It was all Harry could do to not be arrested for public indecency, as he balled his hands into Louis’ top and tried not to rip it straight off him.

Louis broke the kiss, but kept their faces close together, murmuring a declaration that he had wanted to do that all day into Harry’s jawbone. He seemed to need a few moments to gather himself, Harry still desperately clinging to him and wanting more, always more.

“I’m not running, but can we take this slow?” Louis whispered directly in Harry’s ear, causing a shudder to run down his spine directly to his cock, which was just not ok considering what Louis just said. Slow, he could do slow, if it meant he would get to be with Louis. If only his body was getting the same memo as his brain.

“I just want it to be right, if we are doing this? It’s been a while and, um, yeah?” Louis was muttering into the crook of Harry’s neck, clearly embarrassed to be asking this, which was endearing and made Harry want to put him at ease.

“Hey, slow is good, we are in no hurry eh? We can get to know each other, I’ll woo the fuck out of you.” Louis was now laughing into the crook of Harry’s neck, which was a definite improvement.

\---

Louis sat on the night bus trying hard to wish away the hardness in his pants. He knew going slow was the right thing, knew he needed to get to know Harry before he could open up that part of him again, but fuck if his body didn’t disagree. Every inch of him craved to be touching Harry again, wished they were in a cab speeding back to his place, to his bed.

When he got home all he wanted to do was text Harry, but he was still terrified of looking too keen, despite how keen Harry clearly was. That way lay dragons, and Louis wasn’t quite up to dragon slaying just yet. So instead he had a furtive guilty wank. Every slow deep word Harry had spoken, every shared touch and smile, every kiss, they all contributed to the fantasy that fuelled his orgasm, and all contributed to the guilt that washed over him after he came. Wanking over Harry felt dirty somehow, but he had needed the release so much that the guilt couldn’t last long before sleep overcame him and he drifted into dreams of curly haired princes in towers guarded by dragons.

The next day he did end up in chambers, and he ended up there late at night every evening that week, leaving little to no time for even thinking about Harry, although he put in a valiant effort, let alone seeing him. They texted every day, little snippets about their days, song recommendations from Harry, complaints about having to wear a wig and gown to a high court date from Louis (Harry had demanded a selfie and while Louis was certain he would never live it down he apparently couldn’t say no)

By the time Friday rolled around Louis was exhausted. He was also sick and tired of Nick’s teasing every time he got a text from Harry, as apparently he glowed, and all he wanted to do was get out of chambers as soon as he could and get into his bed. He had agreed to drinks with Harry and his friends, however, and as desperate as he was to spend an evening getting lost in those eyes, he was kind of kicking himself for making plans. The last thing he needed Harry to know about was grumpy sleep-deprived over-worked Louis. The bags under his eyes and sallow complexion were not exactly his strongest look. Perhaps he could get out of work early and manage an hours nap before meeting Harry? The last minute case dumped on his desk by one of the more sadistic clerks put paid to that idea, and before he knew it the clock had ticked over to 8pm and he only had an hour to get changed and get to the bar Harry had suggested on the southbank.

The evening was another success in operation: make Harry's friends stop thinking I'm a stalker. Liam wasn't around tonight as he had a shift at the club, but things seemed to be going well with him and Zayn from what Louis could discern. Zayn was a man of few words, but they happily chatted away about films and football and he even wrangled a few genuine smiles from him. Niall suggested at one point that they go on the London Eye which caused groans from the whole group. His protests that they were all terrible friends who never supported his adventures were met with general agreement that Niall's adventures tended to be crazy ideas and they just had strong senses of self preservation. Louis couldn't quite work out what self preservation had to do with the Eye but Harry whispered that it could and had been much worse so he kept his mouth shut.

The grumpy mess that Louis had been before meeting Harry seemed to melt away as soon as their hands touched. It was quite amazing to him how Harry could affect his mood. Aiden had never really had that impact on him. Don’t get him wrong, he had loved Aiden, had agreed to marry him after all, but it was different than with Harry. Even from the start it had been like he and Aiden were opposites who complimented each other, whereas with Harry, despite surface differences, it felt like they were two halves of the same whole. It was mildly terrifying but exhilarating at the same time.

The evening ended with another walk, this time along the southbank, dodging couples and tourists as they moved. It was one of Louis’ favourite parts of London. The space and openness filling him with a feeling of home. The brutalist architecture of the different buildings of the southbank centre caused such a wonderful counterpoint to the naturalness of the river too. It felt like the heart of London, somewhere egalitarian that could be accessed and enjoyed by Londoners and tourists alike. An open secret nestled in the busy car driven city where you could forget where you were.

They talked about inconsequential things, filling each other in on their childhoods, inside jokes, silly hopes and dreams. Louis felt like he could talk to Harry forever and never get bored. Could hear the other man’s deep voice and rumbling laugh everyday. Wanted to hear them everyday.

Louis left Harry at Charing Cross, after kisses too heated for a public place and swallowed unspoken invitations to just come back to Louis’ and fuck his brains out. His resolve and his walls were crumbling quicker than he had ever imagined possible.

\---

Harry sat alone on the night bus, having stayed with Louis after the others had left. He could barely keep the grin from his face, and mentally urged the driver on so he could get home to his bed, hand, and bottle of lube. The lights of South London flew past, taking him ever closer to his home. They had moved to New Cross three years previously, when Zayn and Niall’s lease was up and Harry’s housemates were an insane bunch who had screaming matches at three am. It had been the best house share, the three of them seeming to slot naturally into roles within the flat, Harry cooking, Niall cleaning, Zayn hanging out on the couch looking beautiful and smoking. It worked. Right now, however, he was hoping his best friends weren’t still up so that he didn’t have to spend time being quizzed on Louis before he could get into bed and get himself off.

No such luck, obviously. Harry thought he had likely used up all his quota of luck for the year meeting Louis. Niall and Zayn and Cara were all in the living room, calling out to him the second the door opened. He really couldn’t begrudge them, he’d want to know all the ins and outs of their love lives too. In fact he did know all the ins and outs. A bit too literally at times.

Zayn had a joint rolled and Cara had made tea for everyone, pouring him a cup from the pot when he entered the room. With an internal sigh he curled into Cara’s side on the sofa, ready for the interrogation that was sure to be on it’s way.

“We want to keep him. Make it happen Haz.” Niall declared, startling a laugh from Harry.

“What? You want to what?”

“Keep him. We like him, he’s awesome. You're so different with him than we’ve ever seen you before. We want him in our group please.” Niall said it like this wasn’t a huge declaration of love. Their group were a friendly bunch, welcoming others into their outskirts frequently and easily, but at the heart of it were the four of them, always, and no one else had managed to infiltrate that yet. Niall’s ex-girlfriend Barbara had come close, with her and Cara having hit it off immediately, but no-one had ever referred to her as being part of their tight knit core group.

“You’ve only met him twice Nialler.” Harry protested with a smile.

“Technically Niall and I have met him three times, four if you count the time he creepily sat beside us in JoJo’s, and ok, we don’t know him that well, but mate, he’s cool.” Christ, if Zayn was that vocal about something then it probably was something they had all been talking about before Harry arrived.

Cara just patted Harry’s knee, cuddling him as he tried to take in the pressure his friends had just put on him over Louis.

“Fine, you fuckers. Pressure me why don’t you. Me, the one here who has never had a relationship, super cool, cheers guys.” Harry tried to sound severe but by the end of his speech he, and the other three, had dissolved into giggles.

The joint was passed around and Harry felt it’s smoke sink into his bones, making him pliant and soft. By the time he poured himself into his bed it was all he could do to keep his eyes open long enough to get naked, let alone have the leisurely wank he had been planning on the way home.

His weekend was spent mostly in the shop, recommending more love songs than anything else, Ed laughing at him each time he overheard. Every song reminded him of Louis, of midnight strolls through picturesque parts of town, hand in hand with the most beautiful man he had ever met, slowly getting to know each other, slowly falling deeper and deeper.

The week passed slowly, Harry wanting to spend every waking hour with Louis, but Louis was busy with work. The guilt in Louis’ voice every time he turned down an invitation said something to Harry, but he wasn’t sure what. He wanted to open up Louis’ mind and spend weeks studying it, the older man was just so fascinating to him. Louis was successful, intelligent, and driven, such attractive features in a person.

Perrie eventually banned Harry from talking about Louis when they met for coffee that week. She worked in a coffee shop down the road from the record shop, and was always generous with free caffeine, or at least upgrades if her boss was around. There were numerous times when he had ordered a flat white, only for it to have morphed into some caramelly concoction with tonnes of whipped cream when she brought the drinks downstairs for her break. They would lounge on cushions and people watch, making up backstories for all of the patrons of the small shop. That week, apparently, Harry had been slightly unsubtle in how all of his backstories involved meeting hot barristers or being a hot barrister. Perrie made rubbish jokes about how the people in the shop were more likely to be baristas, and then banned all talk of the legal profession, of boys with blue eyes and quiffs, or of perfect bums.

On Tuesday they had gone to JoJo’s again, Liam having put Zayn on the list with a very generous plus 4. Zayn and Liam had quickly fallen into some sort of undefined relationship, which right now seemed to consist of a lot of very loud sex. Harry didn’t begrudge him but as their rooms were right next to each other and when he hadn’t had sex since the night before he met Louis, that was quite unfair. The guy from that night had tried to contact Harry on many occasions, texting him for drinks, late night booty calls, even popping into the shop. Harry felt guilty for the fact he hadn’t spared the man more than a passing thought since thirty minutes after he had left his bed, but his thoughts had been consumed with Louis since he had stepped onto the tube at Bond Street and had seen Louis through the doors between their carriages. He had slipped out at Oxford Circus and onto Louis’s carriage, not planning on talking to him but feeling drawn towards him all the same. The rest, as they say, was history.

The evening was a blur of indie bands, bottles of beer and dancing. Marcus who run the night was in a bad mood, it was raining and the end of the month and very few people seemed to be out in Soho. Harry preferred the place not packed, but of course he could see Marcus’ point of view. It did mean, however, that they shut down early at one am, meaning that Liam could come home with them for yet another round of energetic sex. Harry was over the moon.

Wednesday brought more rain, and Louis still up to his eyeballs in work. Their text interactions had become more frequent, with nicknames having infiltrated them. The first time Louis had called him Haz, Harry had butterflies in his stomach for hours. He felt like a teenager in the first throes of puppy love, but he couldn’t find any fucks to give. Harry had an early shift that got him out at four, and after texting Louis he started the twenty minute or so walk to Lincoln’s Inn. If he couldn’t see Louis properly ‘cause of work, he could at least bring him coffee and food to make sure he was looked after.

It turned out Louis and his roommate in chambers were on the verge of cabin fever by the time he got there, and Nick decided that they had to get out, even if only for an hour to eat before they went back to work. Apparently Nick had slept in chambers twice last week, and once this week. Being essentially self employed meant there was no one to cover if you didn’t get the work done, and so they just had to get the work done. When Harry arrived Nick demanded to be properly introduced, declaring he had heard way too much about Harry, and then swept the three of them out of the building and up to Holborn to find somewhere that wasn’t inedible for dinner.

Harry found that he loved Nick. He found he loved Nick and Louis together even more. There was an easy banter between them that at times would sound like hatred to an outsider, but Harry had got pretty good at reading Louis and could see the fondness on his face. Nick was loud and brash and he brought out a cheeky playful side of Louis that Harry had only caught brief glimpses of before. They fought back and forth over where to eat, and when they finally settled on Wagamamas they continued to fight over which sides they should order for the table and how many. Harry just looked on smiling, sipping on a beer and cataloguing all of the little things about Louis that he was starting to fall in love with.

Nick seemed genuinely interested in Harry, once the argument had been settled and the waitress had delivered both gyoza and edamame beans to the table. Apparently Nick loved Sister Ray’s, but tended to shop in Rough Trade more, which made Harry splutter with indignation. Nick promised to pop into Harry’s store more often, but as his flat was tucked away off Brick Lane he claimed Rough Trade was a marriage of convenience. Nick’s knowledge of music was stellar, and very similar to Harry’s. Louis rolled his eyes at them both when they got started, but Nick confided that Louis actually had a really good ear and could harmonise with songs on the radio in seconds, but he was just rubbish at remembering what those songs actually were.

Louis and Harry parted from Nick with promises that Louis would be back in ten minutes, and that yes, Nick could steal Harry one evening soon for a gig, and Louis might even consent to joining of they both bought him a pint.

A quick walk through the square led to far more kissing than talking, and Louis was far later back than the ten minutes he had intimated to Nick. Harry was floating on cloud nine from Louis’ gentle touch, and from the easy way that Louis seemed to fall into him. Harry hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up but they were currently somewhere around thirty thousand feet.

\---

Friday rolled round again, with Louis having been slightly less busy towards the end of this week. The fact he had managed to see Harry for dinner had been a blessing, even if Nick had been there too. It had been gratifying to see his only real friend get on so well with Harry, important to him how quickly they had been at ease in each other’s company.

Niall had insisted that they participate in the quiz at the pub local to the boys’ place, and so Louis found himself on the overground to New Cross, not a part of London he was familiar with. Harry met him at the station and they shared a chaste kiss before clasping hands and heading to the bar. Louis once again felt electricity zip through him at the kiss, and warmth spreading from their joined hands. It was fast becoming a familiar feeling, one he craved like a drug.

The group were all smiles and hugs when Louis and Harry arrived, and Louis felt happiness spread through him at how easily and quickly they had opened their lives to him. As someone who was slightly wary of letting people in, it felt like such a gift to be welcomed like this, and made him more determined to embrace this group, and Harry especially.

After much discussion about team names they settled on the Quizzie Rascals, which delighted Harry who seemed to relish a good pun. They even won the prize for best team name, but unfortunately their luck didn’t extend to the quiz proper, with them coming third overall. Liam and Niall clashed over how bad at whispering Liam was, which led to Niall sulking into his pint when Zayn took Liam’s side. Harry aced the music round with some help from Cara when it came to more pop elements, and Louis did well at the current events round, but in the end there were a couple of incredibly determined teams who took everything very seriously. That contrasted to the Rascals who joked and laughed and missed questions that they didn’t hear from talking too much. Liam and Zayn spent as much time in the smoking area as they did in the pub, and Louis and Cara often joined them too. All in all they were lucky to come third, but that didn’t stop Niall calling them a shower of cunts and saying he’d find better friends before the next quiz.

Louis was having so much fun that when he looked at his watch he was shocked to find it was midnight and he had missed the last overground back to Shepherds Bush. He was in the process of trying to get a quote on an Uber at the same time as googling night buses, when Harry took his phone from him and pocketed it. Louis turned to him to protest, but the soft look on Harry’s face arrested him.

“Hey, crash at ours? You can have my bed, I’ll take the sofa, yeah?” Harry looked so nervous about his suggestion but Louis just felt relief. He really didn’t want to leave yet; couldn’t quite justify the cost of a cab, couldn’t face the almost two hours the night bus into town and out again would take, but mostly he didn’t want to leave Harry.

“Ok,” he breathed “that sounds like a good plan to me.” Harry’s smile was blinding. “Let me take you for breakfast in the morning, yeah? To thank you for giving up your bed.”

Harry just kissed him in response, long, slow and wonderful. The electricity zipped through him again, igniting every nerve ending and causing him to moan low in his throat, which just caused Harry to redouble his efforts. The kiss only ended when Niall and Cara came back from the bar, both making loud vomming noises as they placed pints on the table.

“Get a room boys, there are respectable people in here who really don’t need to see yous two swapping spit.” Harry broke away laughing hard at Niall’s protests, tears running down his face as his body shook.

“Honestly Horan, if you are including yourself in that statement then you are a bigger bullshitter than I took you for. Respectable indeed.” Niall was grinning and sticking his tongue out at Harry in a seriously lascivious manner, which just cause both Harry and Louis to dissolve into fits of laughter yet again.

When the last round of drinks had been drained the whole group set off for the boys’ flat, linked arms and joyous raised voices uniting them all. Louis hadn’t felt this free and happy in years. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in London in even longer. The itch he usually felt to escape the city was barely noticeable under the blanket of easy happiness that lay on him like a cloak. When they reached the flat it was small and cosy, the top floor in an old victorian townhouse. They piled into the living room, congregating on two comfortably overstuffed sofas, Niall passing out cans of beer that he had brought through from the kitchen. Louis curled into Harry at one end of the larger sofa, smiling fondly at his new friends as they bickered over who should sit where. Zayn ended up on the floor leaning back on Liam’s legs, and Louis was struck by how attached they seemed to be after so short a period of time. Of course he and Harry had been dating for the same period, but there was an easy way that the other two boys had with each other that came only from having been sleeping together. Liam carded his hands through Zayn’s hair and Zayn was almost purring as he leaned back into the touch. A pang of something that felt like jealousy ignited in Louis’ belly, wanting that level of intimacy with Harry so badly, but still holding back for reasons he could no longer really define. Harry very clearly wasn’t Aiden. Even though his and Aiden’s love story had been so romantically perfect that it seemed unreal at times, it probably had been unreal if you looked at the midnight serenades and proposals that neither really meant or wanted but which had seemed the right thing to do. There was something with Harry that made his previous relationship seem like a poor facsimile of emotions. And they'd so far done nothing but kiss, Louis didn’t even want to imagine how much more intense it could be after they finally had sex.

When Louis started to feel his eyes droop, Harry nudged him awake, and pulled him off the sofa, muttered goodbyes to the rest of the group, and down the hall towards his bedroom. The room was gorgeous, small but perfectly tidy. A big double bed dominated the space, soft pale grey wood with a fluffy white duvet and pillows. The rest of the furniture in the room was made of the same pale wood as the bed, all contrasting beautifully with a dark wood floor and white walls.

“This place is gorgeous Harry, you must have a very generous landlord.” Louis smirked, trying to diffuse the slight anxiety he felt at being alone with Harry in Harry’s bedroom.

“We rent it unfurnished, and IKEAs easy to make look nice if you pick the right bits.” Harry took a step closer towards him, eyes soft but with desire flashing across them like lightning.

“If you kiss me I’ll never be able to let you go sleep on that sofa.” Louis whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure Harry would catch it over the raucous laughter still coming from the living room.

Harry closed the gap between them, cupping Louis’ face in his large strong hands. Louis shuddered at the touch.

“Do you want that, Lou? Are you ready? Like really ready? I don’t want to push.” Harry’s voice was even lower than normal, dripping with scotch and honey.

“I don’t know?” Louis answered honestly, curling into Harry’s strong torso.

“Then we'll wait. I don’t want you to ever regret me.” And so they just stood holding each other, basking in the others warmth and scent, until Harry finally broke away, planting a soft kiss on Louis’ forehead, nose, cheeks and finally lips for just the barest second, before he stood back, near the door.

“The toilet is the third on the left, and the kitchens beside the living room, if you need anything. There should be a spare toothbrush in the cabinet. I’ll see you tomorrow, love”

The kindness and acceptance that Harry was showing him made his chest feel too small for his heart. With a small smile in return he turned towards the bed, slipping off his shoes, and sinking into the soft covers when he heard the door snick shut behind him. Shrugging off clothes Louis curled into the bed, tiredness pulling at the corners of his mind. The bed smelled of Harry; coffee, woodsmoke, citrus and something underneath it which Louis filed away as the smell of pure sex.

Despite exhaustion pulling at him, Louis lay awake, watching the stars through Harry’s window, wrapped in Harry’s smell, feeling safe enough to finally confront some of his feelings. Lying there he thought of Aiden and everything that had happened, of why Aiden had left, of why Louis had been alone ever since, of how Harry had swept into his life and filled in cracks that Louis hadn’t even been aware were still there. The sounds of conversation from down the corridor lowered to a murmur, before finally Louis heard doors closing in the corridor and the house settled into the silence of mutual sleep. Ten minutes later, when he still couldn’t sleep, he slipped out of bed and down the hall towards the kitchen. Soft light spilled from the ajar door, making Louis pause at the entrance, held captive by what he saw. Harry was moving assuredly around the room, grabbing dirty dishes, washing them and tidying them away into cupboards. Harry was wearing just his jeans, bare feet and bare torso both shining in the low light that came from a lamp on the kitchen table. The long lines of his back made Louis want to trace every inch of him with his tongue.

\---

Harry felt eyes on his back, and turned to see a sleep mussed Louis leaning against the door frame, wearing only black boxer shorts. He couldn’t breath for a moment, mesmerised by the beauty of this boy. He could finally take in the tattoos that littered Louis’ body properly, having only glimpsed them on their first date. Louis was a work of art, his muscles were defined in all the right places, but there was still a little softness to his belly that Harry wanted to sink into and never leave. His thighs were thick and golden, calves lean and defined like a footballer, and his ankles were sensual in a way Harry had never expected from ankles.

He raised his eyes up to Louis’ face and smiled, hoping that Louis couldn’t read on his face all the things Harry was feeling. With how perfectly everything had been going the past few weeks he thought his heart might break if Louis bolted again.

“Any chance of a cup of tea?” Louis was still standing in the door frame, looking small and unsure, younger than Harry had seen him look before.

“Course, come in.” Harry flipped the kettle on, busying himself grabbing mugs and tea bags from the cupboard and milk from the fridge. He was surprised seconds later when he felt Louis drape himself over Harry’s back, warm arms wrapping themselves around Harry’s middle, and Louis nosing at the base of his neck.

“Your smell, fuck Harry.” Louis’ voice was thick, with arousal or sleep Harry didn’t know, but he thought it was likely the former.

When Harry turned Louis let go of him and backed off till he was standing against the kitchen table, leaning there with a soft smile on his face, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach, tell tale thickening in his boxers telling Harry his earlier assumption was correct. He quirked his eyebrows at Louis questioningly, but before he had a chance to talk the kettle boiled and Harry had to turn back to making the tea.

“Milk? Sugar?” He called over his shoulder, fishing teabags out of cups with a spoon.

“Just milk, sweet enough and all that.” A pause. “Haz, can we talk? There are a few things I kinda think I should tell you.” Harry turned, cup in each hand, and motioned towards the table.

They sat for a few minutes in silence, blowing on their tea and sipping it slowly. Harry didn’t want to press the matter, but the way his knee bounced constantly was a sure give-away at the tension that coursed through him.

“This is nice.” Louis broke the silence, eyes still focused on his tea, before looking up and motioning at the table and tea. “Reminds me of sitting up with my Mum, after Dad left, when I was studying for my A-Levels. We used to chat about everything. My future, financial stresses, men she met, men I met. I even came out to her over a midnight cuppa.” Louis’ smile was soft, reminiscing.

“Did you always want to go into Law? Must have got good grades for that?” Harry thought that might be a safe topic to start with, rather than his parents divorce or how his mum struggled to make ends meet, or, you know, why Louis was scared of relationships.

“Nah, I wanted to be an actor, hated school, but then Dad left and I wanted to be able to support mum if she needed it. So I put my head down and got the best grades I could. Walked out with four As and a place to read law at Bristol. I kinda feel like I act every day in court, so it works as an outlet for that, but gives me financial stability too. Mum remarried a few years ago, and my sisters both have their own careers now, so they don’t need me to support them, but it’s good to know I could.” Louis picked up his tea and sipped, so gentle in his actions, wrists flexing as he lifted the cup in a way that Harry didn’t think should be sensual, but most definitely was.

“That must be nice, financial stability and all that.” Harry winked, picking up his tea to avoid having to face his own insecurities.

“Yeah. It makes life easier. Anyway, I went to uni in Bristol, as I said. That’s where I met Aiden. Aiden is why I ran away.” Louis looked up, locking gazes with Harry. There was a challenging look in his eyes, like he was daring Harry to laugh at him having been heartbroken. Harry hoped that all the affection he had for Louis was poured into his returning gaze, that it could offer reassurance to him.

“We fell in love, it was a fairytale, I was swept off my feet. I used to joke that it was like Richard Curtis was directing my love life. We graduated together, moved up to London so I could do the bar course here. He, he umm, he proposed just before I started the course. I was engaged Harry. I feel like that's something you should know.” Louis shifted in his seat, clearing his throat before he continued.

“I loved him. I honestly thought he was the one. Then six months and three days from when he proposed, he left. He couldn’t handle the stress of my course apparently. He walked out while I was at school. He didn’t even have the guts to tell me. I just came home to an empty flat, cleared of all his stuff and a hell of a lot of mine, oh and all our mates too, they all took his side. There was a note, he explained his reasons, but it didn’t exactly cut it, you know?” Tears fell down Louis’ cheeks, and Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out and brush them away. Instead he let out a long breath, a muttered fuck came with it.

“I didn’t have time to break down, to deal with it, so I had to put it in a box to deal with later, and I guess later never came. You’re the first person I’ve even properly fancied since then, so I’ve had no real reason to open up that particular box, until now.” The tentative hope in Louis’ eyes killed him, and so he finally did reach out and touch Louis’ face, brushing a thumb softly under his eyes, wiping away the tears.

“Lou, I can’t promise you everything will be easy, with a happy ending. I can’t promise I will never hurt you or vice versa. I can’t promise I’m the one for you or you for me. But I can promise that if you want to do this I’ll always communicate with you about any issues. I’ll never clear myself out of your life without talking to you. I’ll never give up without trying to save us.” Harry watched as tension left Louis’ shoulders at his words, and the tentative hope blossomed into a full rose in bloom. Then Louis stood, taking their mugs to the sink before he returned to the table and took Harry’s hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” Louis said simply, before leading Harry down the hall to his room.

They stood in the dark, lit only by the glow from the streetlamps outside. Louis looked so damn beautiful that Harry wanted to freeze time so he could stay here forever, cocooned in their shared secrets and newly formed feelings. In fact the whole evening felt like something that should be preserved in resin like some Damien Hirst artwork.

Louis pulled him down onto the bed, kissing briefly before he snuggled down beneath the duvet.

“I’m shattered, is it ok if we just sleep?” Louis asked around a yawn.

“Of course babe, I can go to the sofa, honestly.” Harry didn’t want to encroach, have Louis assume he wanted things that, yes ok he wanted them but he didn’t need them, ok?

“Shhh, cuddle me please.” Louis was already nuzzling into the pillow, on his side, and so Harry gently wrapped his arms around him from behind, spooning lightly. Louis’ arms tightened on his, pulling Harry closer, and he ended up with Louis pressed to his chest, his face buried in Louis’ hair.

He lay there for a while, scared to move at all, until he felt Louis’ breathing shift into the slow regular pattern that indicated sleep.

“I’ll wait as long as you need Lou,” he whispered, “You are worth it, so so worth it.”

It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw Louis’ lips twitch into a smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always I am [conscious--ramblings](http://conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Come say hi  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting today for Alice as it is her birthday and the smut finally happens in this chapter. Thank you for all of your support on this Alice, have a wonderful day

Louis woke to Harry still wrapped around him, feeling lighter than he had in years despite the man draped over his back. His mouth felt like someone had soaked up every bit of moisture with cotton wool, the alcohol from last night having done a number on him. Despite all of their revelations the previous night he didn’t think he and Harry were quite at the stage of morning breath yet. Unpeeling himself from Harry’s long limbs he snuck out of the room to freshen up, and make them both tea.

When he came back to the room Harry was lying awake, bleary eyes blinking up at Louis like some ridiculous baby deer. This child would be the death of him, and this morning he welcomed death. He passed Harry his tea before climbing back into bed, cuddling up into Harry’s warmth.

“Hi.” Harry scrunched his sleepy face at Louis as he sipped on his tea. “How are you today, love?”

“I’m brilliant.” Louis beamed, taking in the relief on Harry’s face that he was clearly still ok with everything this morning. “Honestly haven’t felt this comfortable in years, since before Aiden and I split. I didn’t realise how much I needed to talk about it.”

Harry dipped his head back to Louis’ hair, planting kisses there. Louis tried desperately to control the electricity which coursed through him at every touch. Now that he had unburdened himself he didn’t feel so strongly about waiting with Harry, he was pretty sure this was worth at least trying with, and was horny as hell. That didn’t change the fact he hadn’t had sex in over two years, however, and hadn’t had sex with anyone but Aiden in nearly 7 years. So his fear of getting hurt emotionally had morphed into a fear of being crap in bed, and disappointing Harry, who clearly didn’t struggle to get men, didn’t struggle to probably have mind blowing sex whenever he wanted.

The tension between them rose as the tea in their cups ran low, desire, anticipation and expectation filling the small spaces between them. Finally Harry took Louis’ cup from him and placed it on the bedside table, turning back with eyes dark with want. Louis closed the gap between them, tasting the tannins in Harry’s mouth as he kissed into him, licking along his lower lip, biting gently. The noises that Harry produced were obscene, and went straight to Louis’ cock.

Harry pulled away far too soon for Louis’ liking and he whined at the loss of contact between them.

“I just need to be sure you are ok.” Harry panted, out of breath and shifting his body on the bed to try and hide his already hardening cock.

Louis just dove back into the kiss, way too far gone to be able to have a conversation about this, and thinking that would probably kill the mood dead anyway. He smiled into the kiss when Harry melted back into it, making his delicious noises again.

They stayed like that for god knows how long just kissing and hugging, getting to know each other’s taste, smell, feel, letting them merge with their own until it felt like there was no space between them at all. When Harry’s finally lips moved to the spot behind Louis’ ear and sucked, he felt like he might have died and gone to heaven, too delirious to even care about marks that might betray him in his nine am court appearance on Monday.

From there Harry spent long minutes exploring Louis’ neck, shoulders, torso with his mouth and hands, laying him back on the bed like he might break, worshipping his body like he was beautiful art. In that moment Louis did feel beautiful, felt like he was the centre of the universe. Each touch felt like he was opening up to Harry, like Harry was skillfully and deftly removing any barriers Louis may have had left.

Louis writhed beneath Harry, trying to get more contact, trying to get Harry to speed up and touch him. Harry laughed and looked up at Louis with dark eyes, pupils blown.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ve been waiting to watch you fall apart since the first time I saw you on the tube.” Louis’ cock twitched at Harry’s words, already harder than he thought was possible.

Lying back he felt Harry’s mouth return to his neck, kissing back down his body, pausing to tease his nipples until he cried out in arousal and frustration, his cock still untouched and aching. Harry moved further down, Louis sucking in a breath as he felt licks all over his stomach, getting closer and closer to the one place Louis wanted, needed, to be touched. But Harry was a tease, he continued down, kissing and biting Louis’ thighs, calves and finally ankles. As he made his way back up, sucking dark marks into the delicate flesh at the top of Louis’ thighs, every muscle in Louis’ body tensed, if he didn’t get some part of Harry touching him soon he would not be responsible for his actions.

Harry looked up at him again as he teased the top of Louis’ boxer shorts, pulling them down so slowly that Louis might scream. When he was finally naked, cock hard against his stomach, he looked back at Harry, seeing pure awe and desire on the other man’s face.

“Fuck Lou, you're so beautiful, can’t wait to...” but whatever Harry couldn’t wait to do was forever lost when he wrapped his mouth around Louis’ cock and groaned, like he physically hadn’t been able to stop himself. Louis wasn’t proud of how he'd jerked his hips at the contact, pushing more of himself into Harry, but he didn’t think he could be held responsible for anything while Harry had those sinfully full lips wrapped around his cock.

Groaning, Louis melted into the mattress, not exactly shocked that the electricity that coursed through him at Harry’s every touch was intensified by about a thousand times when Harry’s touch was his mouth on Louis’ cock. Harry’s hands seemed to be everywhere, teasing and pulling sensations out of Louis that he had never felt before, until eventually those magic hands zoned in on Louis’ thighs and then, oh god. One finger had creeped higher, pushing gently at the junction between Louis’ legs, pressure increasing right where he needed it as Harry looked up at him. The look on Harry’s face was questioning and soft, as if checking this was ok, but the innocence in that look was ruined by the fact that Harry had a mouthful of cock, and that his finger was pushing past the muscle of Louis’ hole as Louis moaned in pleasure. Harry had somehow managed to lube his fingers without Louis even noticing, just confirming his current belief that Harry was some sort of magical creature.

Another finger joined the first, and Harry’s fingers were so long, so thick, so much. It had been so long since Louis had even bothered to finger himself, usually settling for an unsatisfying wank in the shower, and every single touch and movement felt like his nerve endings were on fire. Beautiful, perfect, all consuming fire. Louis thought back to the first record Harry had sent, and decided he agreed with the sentiment of wanting to burn together if this was what the fire felt like.

Far too soon Louis felt the familiar tugging in the pit of his stomach, growing and building until it felt like he might explode. He tried to warn Harry, pulling on his hair and muttering about coming, but that just seemed to spur Harry on, taking Louis deeper and crooking his fingers in just the right way to make Louis completely fall apart, spilling down Harry’s throat as his whole body shook and he saw stars.

There was blackness for a few seconds, before Louis blearily opened his eyes, seeing sparkling green in front of him and a grin to rival the cheshire cat. They were kissing again, Louis wasn’t sure when or how that started, but he could taste himself in Harry’s mouth and it was the hottest thing he had ever experienced.

“You look so perfect when you come, I need to do that every day until you tell me to stop.” Harry was nuzzling into Louis’ neck, apparently completely ignoring his own erection. Louis blushed deeply at the compliment, but he agreed with the sentiment.

“You’ll be stuck with me for a while then, love.” The grin he felt from Harry where his mouth was pushed into Louis’ shoulder was delightful, and he wanted to always be the one to make Harry smile like that. How had he fallen so fast? How had things changed so much since yesterday when they were still taking things slow? He couldn’t really find it in himself to care right now, not when there were more pressing matters at hand. Or not quite at hand yet.

Snaking a hand between their bodies he palmed the front of Harry’s boxers, delighted to find they were almost soaked through with pre-come.

“Off, please,” he ordered Harry, who was still laying on top of him, “be more naked.”

Harry giggled, endearing Louis far too much for the situation they were in, and in seconds was fully naked, laying beside Louis in all his glory. And what glory it was. Tattoos littered his body, drawing the eye to Harry's perfect cock with a pair of ferns. Louis felt like he could get lost in Harry for days.

Louis wanted to slowly explore every inch of him like Harry had done, but when he started kissing his collarbones Harry groaned in frustration.

"Please Lou? M'so close, please. I need you, don't tease." He was practically begging and Louis wasn't one to turn down a pretty man begging him to get him off. Louis barely had his mouth around him when he felt Harry’s cock start to twitch and saw Harry’s abs fluttering with the effort of trying to hold back his orgasm, prolong his pleasure. Louis hummed in approval at the beautiful man beneath him and that was apparently all that Harry needed to fall apart, coating Louis’ tongue with his come, making noises so beautiful and so obscene that Louis blushed in response.

They lay in each other's arms after, collecting themselves as they whispered sweet nothings. Louis couldn’t quite believe that one blow job from Harry was better than most of the sex he had had with Aiden in the second half of their relationship, maybe even in the whole thing if he was honest. It felt like Harry’s body was made for him and vice versa, and he couldn’t wait to experience every fantasy he had ever dreamed up with Harry. But for now he needed to nap, eyes drifting slowly closed, blackness engulfing him. As he fell into sleep he thought he heard a whispered plea from Harry, but it was so quiet he wasn’t sure. It sounded like “please don’t run away” and he desperately wanted to promise he wouldn’t, but sleep claimed him first.

\---

Harry lay beside Louis watching him doze, unable to quite believe his luck. Harry had taken a nap as well, and had been so delighted to wake up with Louis still curled around him like a koala, that he hadn’t had the heart to wake him. Which was how he had ended up creepily watching him sleep. It had been half an hour now, and was probably getting past the point of cutely endearing and into the realms of slightly scary psychopath, and so Harry carefully extracted himself from Louis, grabbed their half drunk tea from earlier, and went to the kitchen to refresh them.

Niall sat at the kitchen table, smirking at Harry as he walked in. Niall said nothing for long minutes, just sat sipping his tea, knowing smirk on his face. Harry found him intensely infuriating.

“Good night then?” Niall finally asked, barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Mmhmm, we talked.” Harry replied archly, removing tea bags from their cups and adding milk.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? How did that particular slang pass me, the owner of a sex shop, by?” The laughter was now fully apparent, Niall making no effort at all to hold it back as he pretended to muse on “talking”.

“Fuck off.” Harry sat at the table, not really angry, unable to be angry right now, not with a naked, sex satisfied Louis in his bed not fifteen metres away.

“Mate, I’m delighted for you, it’s about time. Do we get to keep him then?” The fucker winked at Harry, how did he get stuck with his friends? Honestly.

“Don’t pressure it Ni, I don’t want to freak him out.”

“Is one of those for me?” Louis came into the room, grabbing a mug and kissing Harry’s forehead as Harry froze. How much had Louis heard?

“And don’t worry, I’m not going to run away over the fact that blondie here likes me, but I can see where you are coming from, my track record _is_ a bit rubbish.” Louis seemed so free, so easy. It was like seeing him with Nick, only better as he was wearing only a pair of Harry’s tracksuit bottoms and a shit eating grin.

Niall cackled and high-fived Louis, cheering that they had finally got their shit together. Harry just watched them, smiling, before grabbing Louis’ hand and pulling him from the room and back to bed.

Once they were cuddled under the covers, wrapped around each other again, sipping tea, Harry decided he had to ask, even if it had a chance of fucking things up. He’d rather know now than when Louis vanished again after leaving his flat.

“Are we really ok?” He mumbled into Louis’ hair, not willing to meet his eyes.

‘I’m not saying everything is fixed Haz,” Louis sighed. “But I want to do this, and I want to be with you. Can we work the rest out as we go along?”

Harry just grinned and kissed Louis, before sucking another love bite into Louis’ neck, ignoring the half hearted protests Louis laughed out about court dates and being professional. The dark look in Louis’ eyes as he pulled away told him everything was ok, really.

They spent all day in bed, moving only to answer the door to a takeaway that Louis had easily talked Harry into. While Harry had wanted to show off his culinary skills, Louis had wisely pointed out that if they ordered food they could remain naked for a full half an hour longer, and so about ten seconds after Louis’ point had been made they were ordering pizza.

Their day was spent slowly touching, exploring, learning what made the other tick. It was kind of wonderful and Harry wanted to freeze time yet again. They explored every inch of each other with curious mouths and fingers, mapping each other’s tattoos, bones, muscles, cataloguing away every touch for long lonely nights when they weren’t together, or just for the purpose of getting them through any short seconds that they might be parted for.

Louis stayed another night in Harry’s bed, which not so secretly made Harry beam. Seeing Louis curled up in _his_ house, smoking a joint with _his_ Zayn, wearing _his_ clothes, it was everything he had dreamed of since they met. Liam came home to Zayn after his shift too, and it felt for one wonderful evening like everything in his life was in perfect alignment. They climbed onto their roof through Zayn’s skylight and sat wrapped in blankets drinking wine from tea cups, all five boys huddled together, Cara having decided she needed an evening with her own housemates for once. There were stars faintly visible through the light pollution, and Crystal Palace tower was a beacon in the distance, orienting them as they got a little drunk and a little high, and as Harry fell a little more in love.

Louis blew Harry again before bed, mouth soft and pliant, teasing and needy. He was incredible, lathing his tongue over the inside of Harry’s thighs, biting marks into the most intimate spots as he inhaled Harry’s smell, claiming it made him higher than any hash could do. He sucked down over Harry’s balls, mouthing them one by one, humming and groaning in a way that went straight to Harry’s painfully hard cock. There was no way Harry was going to survive this without ending up in King’s with a heart attack. Death by blow job didn’t seem a dreadful way to go.

Louis moved further down, probing at Harry’s arse with his perfect tongue, and Harry swore that his heart stopped beating for far too many long seconds. Soft but firm, warm and wet, Louis was a master at this for someone who had earlier admitted to his lack of experience. He didn’t rim Harry for long, more just feeling out if it was ok, before taking Harry’s leaking cock back into his mouth and sucking deeply, cheeks hollowing prettily in the act. Harry came with one of Louis’ fingers in his arse, and with declarations on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t let fall. It was all in all perfect.

They fell asleep curled together, Louis insisting that he would be the bigger spoon despite his smaller stature, and woke still wrapped up, hardly an inch of space between them. Sadly Louis needed to go to chambers on Sunday, and needed to get a change of clothes from his flat first, declaring that cute as Harry may think he looked in oversized sweats and t-shirts, it wasn’t really a look he could rock to work. One last cup of tea together in bed turned into an hour of kissing and groping, before Louis finally gathered enough willpower to insist Harry walked him to the station. No matter how much Harry pouted it didn’t seem to be able to dent Louis’ resolve.

Their bubble burst as the doors to the overground closed, Louis on one side and Harry still pouting on the platform. He couldn’t pout for long though, a grin taking over his face as he wrapped his arms around himself and walked home. By the time he got there he had three texts from Louis:

**Hi Curly, thank you for the best weekend of my life, xx**

**My neck looks like I’ve been attacked by a sparkly vampire >.< I’ll get you back for this, mark my words**

**How do mutual blowjobs sound to you in terms of revenge?? xx**

The grin on Harry’s face just got bigger, if that was even possible. He stumbled into the flat and into the living room, where Niall, Zayn and Liam sat demolishing large bowls of cereal. Harry flopped onto the end of Niall’s sofa, nuzzling his grin into his friend’s side.

“Well” Zayn cleared his throat, “Louis is loud then.” And all three boys collapsed into fits of laughter. Harry tried to contain himself, tried to look stern at the pile of giggling schoolboys that was his friends, but within a minute he had joined them, delighted laughter ringing through the flat.

Harry spent most of his day curled up on the sofa, Zayn and Liam playing video games after Niall had gone to the shop, wrapped in the t-shirt Louis had worn the previous day, basking in his smell. He and Louis texted so much that he wasn’t sure Louis was actually getting any work done in chambers, but he didn’t really have it in him to feel guilty.

 

Despite the wonderful weekend things went back to Louis working too hard and Harry not really getting to see him much the following week. Harry’s shifts didn’t allow him to drop by for lunch or anything with Louis, and when Louis wasn’t at work he said he just fell into bed and slept. There was a big case coming up and Louis had been asked to assist, which was apparently a huge deal. Harry tried so hard to not be bothered by it, but their weekend had just been so amazing that he had fooled himself into thinking things would change.

They texted daily, little things about their lives, little reminders about their weekend together, tentative plans to meet that Louis would then cancel when work became too much, yet again. By Wednesday Harry was starting to feel like he was hassling Louis, not enticing him, and his insecurities got the better of him. He had never done relationships, wasn’t sure what was ok and what wasn’t. Maybe he was just annoying Louis, maybe he was pushing Louis away, maybe Louis was running again. After the third text to which he received no reply Harry decided that he would wait and see if Louis texted him first in the future, rather than instigating things. They could talk it through face to face at the weekend, but for now there was some vague recollection at the back of his mind that one of his sister’s magazines had suggested waiting as a tactic. Harry would play it cool, he would be the king of playing it cool.

\---

Louis was swamped, work was killing him, allowing him five hours sleep a night if he was lucky, and every waking hour was spent in chambers. He had slept in his office twice this week and it was only Thursday morning. But the worst part of his week was that he hadn’t heard from Harry since yesterday afternoon. Louis had quickly come to rely on the cute little texts he got from Harry to get him through his day. He didn’t always have time to stop and reply, wasn’t always near his phone, and wasn’t allowed to answer when he was in meetings, but just seeing the notifications brightened his day. So not getting them was a blow to say the least. He tried not to read too much into it at first, when he texted Harry he got a reply, there just didn’t seem to be the same flow in their conversation as there had been before and it filled Louis with unease.

Thursday dragged. He had a million and one tasks to do and seemed to have no time to do them all. Thursday night he moped, he listened to bits of the five albums which had brought him and Harry together, but seemed to focus on the break up songs on each album, rather than the songs on Harry’s notes. He did run his fingers over the indentations of Harry’s words on the notes, but that was normal, he told himself.

Friday dawned dull and cold, with Louis at work before seven am for a morning in the office. That afternoon he was due in court in Reading which was a pain as it involved a trip out of London. He had still barely heard from Harry and he was starting to freak out. Had Harry just got bored of him after they had sort of sex? Was it so bad that Harry was letting him down gently? Was Harry annoyed it had only been sort of sex? He tried to keep hold of all the confessions and sweet words they had shared, all the quiet moments and soft glances, but his mind was a traitor and it twisted everything until Louis wasn’t quite sure what to believe.

Lunchtime found Louis picking at his food while trying to weigh up the pros and cons of getting a train to Reading versus driving. Anything to avoid thinking about Harry and how confusing this all was. There was half a soggy Pret sandwich in front of him, cold coffee in his hand, and he was blindly munching on popcorn when Nick came swooping into their room. His roommate was ridiculous really. While all of the other barristers in their chambers wore dark formal clothing to work, Nick somehow managed to get away with far more flexibility. He claimed that as he always had a dry cleaned suit and shirt in their room it shouldn’t matter, as he could change for court or meetings, but some of the longer call barristers gave him sideways glances and all of the younger ones envied his guts. Today he was wearing dark trousers, a dark shirt with a light grey palm leaf pattern printed on it, and chelsea boots that just made Louis think of Harry, which wasn’t fair. Nick’s hair was at least not as silly as it had been when they had first met, back then his quiff had defied gravity, but of late it had got shorter and less ostentatious. Louis definitely hadn’t insinuated at least twice a day that this was because Nick’s hair was thinning in his old age.

So now Nick had dramatically waltzed in from lunch, eyeing Louis like his face was an open book.

“What’s up with you, mardy bum?” Straight to the point as always. Nick was highly attuned to Louis’ moods after they’d shared a room for nearly two years, and never let a chance to needle Louis pass him by.

“Nothing.” Louis was not about to discuss the fact he had an odd feeling about Harry, based only on a few texts, with Nick. He would never hear the end of it.

“Sure are grumpy over _nothing_.” Nick rolled his eyes, and stole the last of Louis’ sandwich from his desk. “Aren’t you out in the provinces this afternoon?”

“Reading, Nick. It’s hardly the back of beyond.” Louis checked his watch, he really needed to get to the station soon if he was going to make it.

“Whatever. Wanna take my car? I’ll trade you.” Nick’s car was much better than Louis’ which could barely be considered road-worthy, and which was inconveniently back at his flat.

“Hmm? What do I have that you want all of a sudden?” Nick wasn’t exactly prone to handing out favours, especially not where Louis was concerned. Theirs was a love/hate friendship, emphasis on the hate at times.

“Your Harry’s number. I have tickets to a band tonight and you said I could borrow him.” Louis was not sure what to make of this. He was barely talking to Harry right now, no good could come of Nick being involved, but he _had_ jokingly agreed Nick could borrow Harry, and the car would be useful.

“Fine. But no talking about me, no embarrassing stories, and no trying to snog my boy. Okay?” Louis hoped his tone conveyed the fact he was half joking, half not.

“You are no fun Tomlinson,” Nick moaned as he tossed the keys onto Louis’ desk and grabbed Louis’ phone to text himself Harry’s number.

 

Twenty minutes later Louis was stuck in traffic on the Westway, wishing he could just get off at the next exit and go home to his bed. Instead he carried on, eventually passing through fields and open spaces. It felt like he was breathing properly again for the first time since leaving Harry’s flat on Sunday.

Parking in Reading he fired off a quick text to Harry, a simple “miss you”. He had typed more, asking for kisses soon, but then had deleted that in a fit of worry about looking too needy when it seemed Harry might be pulling away. Harry replied with a kissing cat emoji and a banana, which didn’t exactly put his mind at ease, nor did it really make sense but it was Harry and he had once filled a text to Louis with aubergine and goat emojis so this wasn’t that strange.

Court was slow, long waits making Louis antsy. He really wanted to get back to London in time for it to be worth going back to work. Not only did he have a lot to get done, but he had Nick’s car, and if he didn’t drive it in tonight he would have to fight rush hour traffic in the morning.

On the way home, however, he was hit by a wave of tiredness so strong that the thought of the extra half an hour on his journey to get to work nearly made him cry. Turning off at Shepherds Bush he quickly parked in a side street and walked to his flat, planning on ordering takeaway and not thinking about Harry.

The takeaway part was easy, the Harry part less so. It was Friday night and he was sat at home, eating mediocre curry, alone. Last Friday he had been doing the quiz with Harry. Last Friday he had confessed his darkest secrets to Harry. Last Friday he had slept curled up with Harry. This Friday he had hardly heard from Harry in three days and his only company was his Netflix queue.

A text from Nick was the final nail in his self-pity coffin, a selfie of Harry and Nick in the Shaklewell, band behind them on stage, pints raised in a toast. The message below the photo read "wish you were here" but it just annoyed Louis. Harry and Nick having fun without him on the other side of London was not fair, and so he switched his phone off, grabbed a bottle of wine and a packet of cigarettes, and proceeded to wallow all evening.

 

He woke the next day to a headache, a mouth that tasted like an ashtray, and a heavy heart. His phone lay unresponsive on his bedside table, black screen devoid of life. The last thing he wanted to do was switch it back on and face any happy texts Nick had sent, but he needed to check his emails before he headed into work.

Fifteen texts, five missed calls and three voicemails met him:

 **Nick Friday 11.05pm** : mate this band rock and hazza is awesome

 **Nick Friday 11.32pm:** might have to steal him from you ;) I'm in love

 **Nick Friday 11.53pm:** louuuuuuuu, where are you? Why are you ignoring me?

 **Harry Saturday 12.03am:** are you ok? Nick and I are worried? Please don't have crashed coming back from work?? Pls text me

 **Missed call:** Harry Saturday 12.13am

 **Nick Saturday 12.28am:** Lou for real, stop ignoring me? I'm worried. I'll call your mum, don't think I won't

 **Missed call:** Harry Saturday 12.43am

 **Missed call:** Harry Saturday 12.47am

 **Voicemail:** Harry Saturday 12.54am

 **Missed call:** Unknown Number Saturday 12.59am

 **Harry Saturday 1.03am:** Louis please, I'm scared

 **Nick Saturday 1.15am:** what are you playing at wanker? Harry's crying. I can't deal with tears. Fix him

 **Unknown Saturday 1.16am:** Louis? It's Zayn. Harry's really worried, says he can't get hold of you, so if you get this let me know

 **Nick Saturday 1.23am:** if you aren't dead I'm going to kill you

 **Nick Saturday 1.24am:** if you are dead I'm gonna kill you again

 **Nick Saturday 1.26am:** pls don't be dead

 **Voicemail:** Unknown Number Saturday 1.31am

 **Harry Saturday 1.32am:** if you never want to talk to me again, okay, just let me know you are ok

 **Nick Saturday 1.53am** : he's asleep. I took him to my place as he was a mess. You better have a good excuse Tomlinson. P.s. I texted your mum, don't kill me

 **Mum Saturday 7.32am** : Louis why does Nick think you are missing? Call me asap

 **Missed call:** Mum Saturday 8.01am

 **Voicemail:** Mum Saturday 8.14am

 **Mum Saturday 8.16am:** Louis William Tomlinson answer your phone or I swear to god I will come down there and put you over my knee. Don't think you’re too old.

Louis groaned. Honestly how had they managed to go from "where are you?" to "we think you might be dead, your sort of boyfriend cried himself to sleep, and we got you in shit with your mum too" in all of an hour or so? Louis was never letting Nick and Harry socialise again, but right now he needed to fix things. He checked the time, 8.53, hopefully his mum wasn't on her way here just yet.  
  
 **Mum I'm fine, I just switched my phone off last night after work cause I needed to sleep. Harry and Nick are drama queens. Love you, I'll call you after I fix it all. L**

Next was Zayn, who he was sure wouldn't be up yet, his voicemail had sounded sleepy, like Harry had woken him up to freak out at him. He had been far more sensible than Nick or Harry, saying he was sure Louis was fine, but to just let him know, and that he'd happily pass on a message if Louis wasn't up to dealing with Harry.

**Hey Zayn, thanks for helping, I just switched my phone off and then passed out with a bottle of wine. Long week. I'll text Harry and Nick and let them know I'm ok. Hopefully see you soon, if Harry doesn't hate me forever. Louis**

He wasn't sure a text would cut it with Harry or Nick, but he also didn't want to wake them, and the thought of calling right now filled him with fear. He padded through to the kitchen to make himself a fortifying cup of tea while he thought about what to say.

He started typing: _Nick. wanker. Calling my mum? Honestly? I'm fine. Have you never switched your phone off when you are tired? Fucks sake._ That was quickly deleted with a sigh as he bit into a slice of toast, heavy with butter and marmite. Trying again he thought he'd go for a more calm approach.

**Nick I'm ok. Stop winding Harry up. You pair are a nightmare. Ps. Can't believe you called mum, traitor.**

Harry was another deal entirely. He couldn't be rude to Harry, not when he desperately wanted to be kissing him and holding his hand and having real sex and marriage and babies and other things he could barely think about without feeling panicked. How he could fix this was beyond him.

**I'm sorry**

He sat staring at the screen watching for the indicator that Harry might be replying. His phone was cruelly still. Louis took a deep breath and tapped out a message, not allowing himself to question it before he pressed send.

**I fucked up. I got home after barely talking to you for two days and I missed you so much. When Nick sent me that photo I was so jealous. Irrational I know. I switched off my phone and fell asleep. Woke up to all hell having broken loose. Please don't hate me. Xxxxx**

There was no response while he was in the shower, none while he ate more toast, and none as he walked to the car and set off for work. His phone was sadly silent as he drove into town, and as he pulled into the carpark at chambers there was still no response.

Just after half ten he was sipping his third cup of tea when his phone buzzed loudly on his desk. Grabbing it quickly he thumbed it open, not looking at the notification in his haste. Zayn. Not Harry, just Zayn. At least Harry's friend seemed to understand. He even asked Louis for a pint that evening, which had to be a good sign, surely?

Louis could barely concentrate, lost in thoughts of Harry, of how he might have ruined everything before it properly even started. He couldn't bring himself to text Harry or Nick again, feeling too much guilt for what he must have put Harry through, and too much annoyance at Nick for enabling the whole affair. He really should rethink his law friends.

At one he wandered into Holborn to get food, sitting down for a burger and glass of wine in a place round the corner from his office, allowing himself comfort food and figuring as he hadn't been able to concentrate anyway he may as well have wine to drown his sorrows.

On his return he could hear music when he walked into chambers, which was odd. He knew he wouldn't be the only one here on a Saturday but the others rarely blasted music, and especially not indie music. Even Louis recognised the album as the Arctic Monkeys which meant one of the pupils was probably in and would be disturbing Louis' moping with music down the hall. As he got closer to his office it became apparent that the music was coming from his own rooms, meaning Nick. At least confronting Nick over last night might make him feel better, and might give him more insight into why Harry wouldn't reply.

As he pushed the door open Nick's desk was empty, which was odd, but made more sense when he turned to his own desk and saw curls and green eyes and Harry. The gasp he gave was audible even over the music. The last thing he had expected was to find Harry in his office.

"Nick let me in, I hope you don't mind?" Harry sounded so tired and unsure that it hurt Louis physically.

"I'm so glad you are here," he answered honestly, unable to hold the words in "I've missed you so much and after last night, and the last few days, I thought you hated me."

"Don't be silly, I just thought you didn't want me hassling you. And then we were drunk and you wouldn't reply and your phone was off and I just freaked out. I'm sorry Lou, so sorry."

"I was just busy and then I didn't know how to fix it, and I'm a jealous idiot and I wasn't ignoring you. We are both idiots." Louis stepped closer to Harry, holding out his arms to him. "Are we ok?"

Harry stepped into his arms, nuzzling into his hair and neck, it all fit, everything felt easy again, they'd be ok.

"Let's not be silly boys who can't communicate, please? Promise to always talk things through like the grown ups we are meant to be, yeah?" Louis murmured into Harry's neck. Communication had been the downfall of his failed engagement, and he really needed to learn lessons from his past. There was no way he was going to let the same thing happen again.

"Sounds perfect, Lou." Harry was laughing softly into their embrace, tightening his arms around Louis as he did so.

"So Nick told me to get you out of here, said you've clocked in way too many hours and looking at you he's probably right. You look shattered, babe." Louis knew the circles under his eyes were darkly bruised right now, knew he looked every inch as tired as he felt, but he had so much to do. His motivation to say no whilst wrapped in Harry's arms was minimal however.

"Okay, but I need to come in tomorrow instead then." He could compromise, he had intended to be there both days, but one would probably do.

"Half a day. I get you 'till 12 and after 6. You need a break and I need time with my boyfriend." Harry paused after he said the word, body tensed, waiting for Louis to freak out at the first time they had used it.

"Yeah, you do." Louis agreed simply, melting further into the hug.

They headed to Louis’ flat, Harry excitedly insisting they go to waitrose on the way home so he could cook dinner for them that evening. Louis tried to say it wasn’t necessary, but Harry wanted to look after ‘his boyfriend’ and would hear no argument. They messed about in the supermarket, Louis slipping silly things into the basket and seeing how long it would take Harry to notice. Before long they had food for that evening and the next, enough snacks to feed an army, and so many various bottles of alcohol that Louis was sure Harry intended to start a bar in his kitchen.

Despite all the bags Harry still tried to hold hands as they walked, which was an utter disaster and resulted in the loss of three cans of beer and two eggs in the middle of Shepherds Bush Green. They gave up after that, and managed to make it back to Louis’ place without further incident.

\---

Louis’ flat was gorgeous, small and cosy and, Harry thought, so very Louis. It was on the bottom floor of a two floor victorian house, the front hall opening onto a lovely living room with high ceilings and a fireplace. Louis led him through to the kitchen which was spacious and light, Harry was envious. They unpacked the bags quickly, before grabbing a couple of beers and heading out into Louis’ small garden to enjoy the last of the summer.

The garden was lovely too, with a small patio and a patch of grass. There was a bench on the patio which Louis was busy making comfy with a pile of cushions from the living room. Before long they were curled up together, Louis carding his fingers through Harry’s hair, making him moan with pleasure. If this was the after effects of them arguing then Harry didn’t think it was such a bad thing after all. Not that they had exactly argued, they had just not talked, which was probably worse.

Nick had been quite indiscreet last night, when Harry had been crying and they had both thought Louis might have been hurt. Apparently he had met Louis just after Aiden had left, when Louis had started at their chambers and had been assigned to the room next to Nick’s. Nick had taken an instant dislike to Louis, and the feeling had been mutual by all accounts, and it had taken a good three months for them to warm up to each other. At the time Louis had been even more brittle than he could be at times now, and Nick had been keen to tell Harry that the two months since the lube on the tube incident (as he dubbed it) had been the happiest he had ever seen Louis. Nick seemed to think Louis needed people more than he let on, and was certain that Louis needed Harry.

Apparently Nick had caught Louis crying in the toilets at work late at night on a few occasions when he had first started. Louis still didn’t know that Nick had heard him crying, and Nick would never tell him, but drunk Nick said Harry needed to know Louis wasn’t a robot. Nick had been shocked by how much Harry knew about Aiden actually, saying he didn’t even know that much, and he had been mostly told what had happened by Louis’ mum after they had bonded over their shared worry for him.

“Penny for them?” Louis poked Harry in the cheek where his dimple would be, causing him to grin.

“Sorry, just drifted off for a minute.” Harry smiled up at Louis, taking in how his face had softened after a couple of hours together. He hoped Nick was right about him being good for Louis because it was starting to feel like he had already lost himself to this man.

“Do I bore you that much Styles? Sorry my chat isn’t great tonight, still...” But Harry never found out what Louis’ excuse was, because his phone rang at that moment, Louis’ mum.

“Fuck. Mum. I said I’d call her when I sorted it all with you two. Hang on.” Louis pressed the accept call button and took a deep breath. “Mum! No it’s all fine. No, hang on. No, Mum, Mum! Nick is a drama queen. How many times do I need to tell you that? Okay... Yes... I just fell asleep with my phone off. Who’s Harry? Well...” Louis raised a finger at Harry, indicating he’d be back before he got up from the bench and walked just inside the french doors which seemed to lead to his bedroom.

Harry had tried hard not to giggle while Louis was trying to placate his mum on the phone, but now he couldn’t hold it back and laughed to himself while he sipped his beer. He didn’t hear the doors open again a minute later and so missed an indignant Louis stalking towards him.

“Et tu Brute?” Louis moaned in a fake pained voice. “You are all conspiring against me and it’s not fair. I’m banning you from hanging out with Grimshaw without me.”

“That bad?” Harry tried to control himself but Louis’ face made his laughter return full force.

“Well apparently finding out I have a new boyfriend by my best mate texting her that I might be dead at one am didn’t go down well. She is furious with me for not telling her about you, and at the same time delighted and already planning the wedding.” Louis shrugged, sobering Harry’s laughter with the insecure look on his face.

“She’ll forgive you when she finds out how wonderful I am,” Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“That, Harold, will just make her worse. She has been pretty much convinced I will die old and alone with four cats ever since Aiden and I split up, so this is akin to telling her I've won the lottery. Or not telling her, and having her find out from Nick.” Taking a long sip of his beer Louis curled back into the cushion pile on the sofa and snuggled into Harry’s neck.

“Bloody boyfriends. More hassle than you are worth.” Louis mumbled into his neck but the kisses he punctuated his words with implied he wasn’t as annoyed as he might seem.

“Oh I’m sure I can prove my worth,” Harry lifted Louis’ chin with a finger so their eyes met, before placing a long slow kiss on his lips.

“Is that so?” Louis muttered into the kiss, before he returned it in earnest.

The kiss quickly turned more serious, with Louis biting Harry’s lip making him shiver, and Louis making the most delicious moans which went straight to Harry’s cock. Harry wasn’t sure how private the garden was, but he was certain anyone with a view would be turned on right now. Louis’ hands were roaming over his shirt, lifting the hem and teasing at the skin. Each touch felt like Harry was being branded anew by Louis, and he wondered if that feeling would ever stop.

Their shirts were lost after about five minutes, and Louis’ mouth was instantly attached to the tattoos on Harry’s collarbone, and stomach, tracing the lines of each one slowly. It drove Harry mad, teasing sensations from him that made him desperate to be in Louis’ bed and not in his back garden in broad daylight.

Apparently Louis was a mind reader because thirty seconds later he was tugging Harry off the bench and through the doors to his bedroom. Harry barely had time to take in what Louis’ room looked like before he was lying on his back on the bed, Louis on top of him sucking bruises into his neck, chest, hips. His trousers were gone next, Louis biting his way down Harry’s legs as he pulled the fabric off him.

“I want to fuck you.” Louis whispered into his neck as he came back up, “Want you to fuck me. Either, don't care. Need it. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

Their mouths crashed back together, Harry swallowing Louis’ pleas, as he pushed his hips desperately up to meet Louis’ hoping that his body conveyed his answer when he seemed to have lost the power of speech. Louis ground back down into him, the friction from Louis’ still clothed body bordering on the wrong side of pain on his hard cock.

“Louis, clothes.” He managed to gasp out, before his lips returned to kissing Louis, biting Louis, licking and tasting and needing Louis. Before long Louis was naked too, giving Harry more canvas to kiss. He spun them over so Louis was under him, laid out for him to take. Grabbing Louis' wrists he pinned them above his head, holding them with one hand as he explored his boyfriend all over again.

The way Louis responded to being pinned was a revelation. The instant Harry had his wrists above him the cocky, cheeky boy evaporated and a pliant needy version of Louis took his place, one who was seemingly willing to let Harry take full control of him.

"Stay still." Harry ordered, surprised by how affected his own voice sounded. "Do I need to hold your hands there?"

Louis shook his head, gazing at Harry like he had hung the moon and the stars. Well this was interesting.

"Good boy." He whispered, testing the waters, delighted when Louis' eyes rolled back in his head and his cock twitched under Harry.

Kissing down Louis' pliant body he felt every twitch of his muscles, every moan that wracked his body, and it was almost too much to deal with. This vibrant loud confident man laid out for him, submissively letting Harry take and give whatever he wanted. When he reached Louis' cock it was leaking and rock hard. Licking at the head he held Louis' hips still, giving him no chance to take back control. Harry teased him, kitten licking along his length and balls for ages before he finally took him into his mouth fully. Louis looked like he might fall apart at any moment and it was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the fateful packet of lube on Louis' bedside table,his heart sung at the fact that Louis had kept it and it seemed perfect for the first time they properly fucked. Grabbing it he quickly covered one finger and pressed it gently to Louis' hole. The effect that had on the beautiful boy beneath him was like art, every muscle tensing, waiting, hoping for more. Harry rubbed slow circles around the rim, still teasing Louis' cock with his tongue. When he finally pushed a finger in Louis couldn't contain himself and his hips jerked up to meet Harry, earning him a playful swat to his bum. The sound that escaped Louis when Harry's hand impacted was so beautiful that he wished they were recording this. Full of want and need, pure longing. Harry would definitely need to explore that further when they had discussed the implications. For now he just needed his boy so much himself that he could hardly keep control.

He started to move his finger in and out slowly, holding Louis' hips with his spare hand. Louis was so tight, so warm, and Harry couldn't wait to be inside him. Adding another finger he allowed Louis time to adjust to the stretch, unable to stop himself from leaning down and licking gently at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside Louis. That earned him another delightful whine, Louis was so perfectly responsive. He probed inside Louis, crooking his fingers just so to catch the spot that he knew would make Louis moan even more. It was quite amazing to him that they fitted so well together so quickly, that he had already started to learn just exactly how to take Louis apart so he could put him back together again.

A third finger followed, Louis tensing for a moment before he relaxed around the stretch. Harry continued to move his fingers in and out, trying to get just the right angle, teasing his boy mercilessly. This wonderful boy, submitting so willingly to Harry, he could hardly believe his luck. It wasn't long before he couldn't hold back any longer, needing to be inside Louis so much it felt like he could hardly breath. He grabbed a condom from his jeans and kneeled beside Louis, enjoying the look on his face as Harry slowly rolled the condom onto his cock and lubbed himself up.

"Can't wait to fuck you, baby. So good for me aren't you? Just lying there letting me take from you? Such a good boy." Louis could barely lie still at Harry's words, squirming and wriggling so much that Harry had to take his arms in his hands again and pin the older man down.

"Be good Louis, or I'll just come on your face and leave you needy and unfulfilled." His threat was a lie of course, there was no way he could do that, but it did the trick, Louis trying valiantly to control himself. It was like nothing mattered more than being good for Harry.

Harry moved to between Louis' legs, reaching forward to pin his arms, needing the grounding connection it gave him. With his other hand he lined his cock up with Louis' pretty wet hole, watching intently as it stretched around him. He slowly sunk forward, watching Louis' face for any sign of distress. When he was fully buried he took a moment to enjoy the feeling of being inside Louis, feeling his tightness and his warmth all around him.

"So beautiful Lou, so good." Louis smiled lazily up at him, hearts in his eyes, before his smile turned wicked and he thrust his hips gently down towards Harry, trying to get him to move. Harry swiped at his hip again, landing a sharp slap which made Louis bite his lip and throw his head back, exposing his neck for Harry to bite. It wasn't an invitation that Harry could turn down and so he gently leaned forward, careful not to move inside Louis, and bit at the base of his neck, sucking as he finally thrust forward. The noises that ripped from Louis's throat were so wonderful that Harry was nearly tipped over the edge, and had to still for a moment to catch his composure.

Building up a steady rhythm he watched Louis' responses, reading his body, trying to make sure he gave Louis everything he needed, that he made this perfect for him. As he thrusted he could feel the familiar buzz tugging in his stomach, not willing to give in to his own pleasure until he had made Louis feel good. He removed his hand from Louis' wrists, giving him a stern look to stay still, and moved it instead to Louis' cock. Gripping lightly he started moving his hand in time with his thrusts, watching as Louis shuddered and moaned, looking more and more wrecked by the second. Finally Louis was spilling onto his stomach in long arcs, his muscles under his skin bunching and shaking.

Harry followed him after another minute, taken apart by the sight of Louis collapsing into the bed pliant and spent. He collapsed on top of his boy, and they both winced when Harry pulled out and dealt with the condom. He'd clean them later, right now he needed to check that Louis was ok. He cupped Louis' face in both hands and peppered kissed all over him, smiling as he felt Louis' face scrunch up in a lazy grin.

"You ok, baby?" He whispered into Louis ear, which caused Louis to laugh loudly.

"Ok? Fucking hell Harry. That was heaven." Louis snuggled his face into Harry's neck, seeming to not mind the sheen of sweat that covered them both.

"Was it alright? Pinning you down I mean?" Harry was shocked by how unsure his own voice sounded, but he really didn't want to have messed up Louis' first sex in years by being too dominant.

"Shush you, it was perfect, you were perfect. I didn't know I'd like that so much, but it felt so good, so easy." Louis' arms wrapped tighter around Harry, like the half millimetre of space between them was too much. "Cuddles and a nap?"

"Sounds good, babe." Harry sighed, collapsing further into the soft bed, drifting off as soon as he had promised himself they'd talk more about this when they weren't on a post sex high.

\---

Louis woke just over an hour later to his stomach grumbling. Harry was sleeping soundly beside him, but as Harry was the source of the food he had been promised, he couldn't just let the curly sleeping monster lie. Instead he prodded Harry in the stomach and kissed his face until the younger man woke, bleary eyes blinking up at Louis.

"S'up?" Harry muttered, still more than half asleep.

"I'm hungry," Louis tried to sound apologetic. "Shower and then food?"

"Mhmmm," Harry turned over, snuggling back into the pillows, which just wouldn't do. Louis seemed to need his attention all the time, wanted Harry's hands on him, his eyes on him, wanted everything Harry had to give. So he pulled the duvet off and jumped on Harry, knocking the air out of him and clinging like a koala. It did the trick, with Harry groaning and then finally turning over and kissing Louis.

"You. Are. A. Menace." He punctuated each word with a kiss, which could only ever be a good thing in Louis' mind.

"Come on, shower and kisses and food and then we can come back to bed?" Louis hopped off the bed and tugged at Harry's hand, pulling him towards his large bathroom.

They stood close together in the shower, huddled under the warm spray. Louis revelled in cleaning Harry, running his fingers through his long curls as he rubbed shampoo into a lather. Harry's muscles were long and taught under his hands, and it took all of his willpower to not drop to his knees and suck Harry off right there in the shower. They needed food, and if they fucked again there was no way they would get out of bed again tonight.

Their shower took longer than needed, Harry making sure they were both thoroughly clean, before they stepped out and wrapped each other in towels. It was sickeningly domestic really, how easily they fell into each other, but somehow it just felt right. Ten minutes later Louis was sat on a counter in his kitchen, watching as Harry chopped and stirred and whisked, knocking together a delicious dish of fish with a beurré blanc sauce and vegetables. He made it look so easy, even with Louis trying to distract him with kisses and hugs and endless questions.

When they had eaten they fell back into bed, patio doors wide open to let in the last of the warm summer breeze. They revelled in each other, soft touches and kisses as they laughed and sipped wine. Louis' flat felt like home for the first time in years, laughter and something that felt close to love filling the spaces that Aiden had left behind.

The easy soft touches changed slowly to ones with more intent behind them as they finished their drinks. Louis ended up pinned under Harry again, subject to long languid kisses and touches that made him feel like his whole body was filled with molten gold. It was so easy to lose himself in Harry, to let go and submit to anything Harry wanted, because he instinctively knew Harry wanted only what would bring Louis the most pleasure.

“Turn over, baby” Harry’s voice was gravelly and affected, and Louis felt it deep in his stomach, like the first tugs of his orgasm.

Lying prone on the bed, Louis had never felt more vulnerable, but at the same time safe and desired. It was a strange mix of feelings and he thought he should probably try to unpick them when he wasn’t floating two foot from the ceiling. Also not when Harry had his wonderful large hands running down Louis’ back and up his thighs, massaging his muscles until he finally reached Louis’ arse. That was highly distracting and Louis really couldn't be responsible for his feelings right at that moment.

Louis also couldn’t be responsible for his actions, and so when he started to wriggle to get himself closer to Harry’s strong hands it wasn’t very fair when Harry spanked him. The shot of pleasure it produced and the resulting moan also were not Louis’ responsibility and he would fight anyone who said otherwise, just as soon as he had wriggled a bit more to get another spank. Fuck.

“Louis do I need to tie you up?” Harry’s voice was grave, but broke as he whispered in Louis’ ear “Fuck, was that too much Lou? Too far?”

“Please” is the only word Louis could choke out, wriggling, too far gone to even be able to contemplate whether this is too much but needing Harry to ground him before he floated up into the flat above.

Harry froze for a moment, not seeming to be sure how to take Louis’ response, before he grabbed a tie that hung off the wardrobe and looped it softly around Louis’ wrists, securing it to the bedframe with just enough slack so Louis could still move if he wanted to. Louis was just relaxing into the new sensations, taking a moment to enjoy being secured at Harry’s mercy, when he felt another light swat to his bum and every muscle in his body went lax at the impact. It felt so right, the light pain grounding him in the sensations he was feeling, but at the same time helping him float away under Harry’s watchful eyes.

Before he knew it Harry was biting his arse gently, testing out how Louis reacted to each new feeling. Louis could only hope that the noises he was making were answering whatever question Harry was asking, as he thought he might spontaneously combust if Harry stopped now.

Spontaneous combustion became an even more real worry when Harry opened him with one hand and lowered his tongue to Louis’ hole. Long slow licks with the flat of his tongue drove Louis to the point of insanity, before Harry finally started to lick his rim in earnest, sucking and biting and lathing, loosening the muscle with every touch. Eventually, when Louis thought he could take no more, Harry’s wonderful clever mouth breached his hole, triggering sensations which Louis thought were probably illegal. When a single long slim finger joined the tongue he nearly passed out, only his desire to not miss a single moment of his ecstasy keeping him conscious.

Harry rimmed him for what felt like hours, and Louis was aware he was a blabbering mess, crying out words which didn't even make sense, interspersed with harryharryharry. He slowly became conscious of the fact that Harry now had three fingers in him, and was probing for his prostate, and his babbling nonsense took on a new urgency as he begged Harry to fuck him. 

“Look at you Louis, lying tied to your bed, begging me to fuck your perfect arse, fuck you are so beautiful” It seemed Harry had only marginally more control over the words coming from his mouth than Louis did. He physically whined when Harry’s fingers left him, something he was not sure grown men should actually do, and was only content again when he heard the sound of a condom being opened, and the pump of the lube he had found in his bedside table earlier.

Harry pushed slowly into him, giving him time to adjust, before setting up a punishing rhythm that had Louis glad he was tied, as it at least gave him some purchase. That was a lie, Louis was glad he was tied for so many reasons, and having something to pull on when Harry pounded into him was way down the list.

Just as he was about to start begging for Harry to give him more, it was like the other man read his mind, and his hips were being pulled up so Harry could grasp his needy cock. Three strokes, perfectly timed to the rhythm Harry had set, and Louis was spilling all over the sheets below him, gasping as his body tightened with pleasure and fireworks went off in his mind. Harry followed him a few beats later, and then they collapsed together, once again all soft kisses and fond smiles.

Harry untied him quickly, rubbing his wrists with gentle circles to check the circulation was ok, and generally being wonderful. Louis felt like a prince under his ministrations, so cared for and looked after. He sunk into Harry’s arms after they were cleaned, basking in his warmth and strength as he sunk into blissful sleep.

The next morning he woke to the smell of fresh croissants and coffee, and an empty space beside him where Harry should be. Following the smells he ended up in the living room, where Harry was setting up breakfast. He stood and watched from the doorway for a while, watching Harry hum a tune about waking up in Shepherd's Bush. Pure affection surging through him, knowing that his face must be the picture of fond. Before he was caught he tiptoed up behind his curly monster and wrapped himself around him, blowing raspberries into his neck and giggling like a teenager. He felt like one too, with all of the emotions surging through him, and he couldn’t stop grinning.

"What are you singing?" Louis murmured into the curls behind Harry's ear, planting soft kisses and small laps of his tongue.

"[Laura Marling](https://youtu.be/W9VVr1wCzDA), I was listening to her the other day thinking of you, I woke up with that in my head, I sung it all the way across the green to the bakers."

"You dork, how did I end up with you?" Louis pecked a kiss to Harry's nose, giggling and squirming when Harry retaliated by licking Louis' nose in return.

"You must have been a very good person in a past life." Harry nodded to himself seriously as he finished laying out breakfast.

That week Louis would discover another record sneaked into his collection with [Ghosts](https://youtu.be/XonJJbV54BE) by Laura Marling highlighted, a note saying Aiden was just a ghost and Harry ain't afraid of no ghost, which would just confirm the dork thing, and the falling in love thing.

Breakfast was fruit, croissants (Harry had stolen his keys and run to the local bakery), fresh coffee and long leisurely blow jobs for both of them. By the time eleven am rolled round and they both had to head to work Louis was sated in every way possible, and if Harry hadn’t also had a shift at the shop he didn’t think all the tea in china could have shifted him from his couch.

They kissed on the tube like a pair of kids, soft giggles and knowing looks whenever another passenger looked at them sideways. Louis couldn’t have cared less what anyone else thought of them that morning, it was like every Christmas and Birthday he’d ever had rolled into one. He didn’t even think he’d been this happy the day he had agreed to marriage, which said a lot really.

Parting at Tottenham Court Road took a lot of effort, not least due to it being the station they had first spoken in when Harry had been a meer curly haired lube throwing menace. Only the promise of Harry staying at his again that night managed to prise Louis’ lips from his boy’s. He floated into chambers, and counted his lucky stars that Nick wasn’t in to see him in this love-sick state.


	5. Chapter 5

The following few weeks saw Harry walking on clouds, waiting for a penny to drop that never did. He saw Louis at least twice a week, more if they could fit things around both their schedules. They went to the pub, they cooked, they hung out with Harry’s friends and with Nick at gigs, the cinema and at their houses. They talked, kissed, and had wonderful sex that left Harry feeling like he’d never really fucked anyone properly or been properly fucked until he met Louis. He spent so much time waxing lyrical to Ed that his co-worker started writing songs about Harry and Louis.

Cara eventually insisted on a night of Harry and Cara time where talk of significant others was banned, as she claimed to miss him so much. They went a pub near her house which was only two stops from Louis on the overground, which may have been her first mistake. Her second was probably buying Harry gin, his emotional weakness, and her third was flirting with the cute bartender when she was getting served, which gave Harry way too much time alone and lead to him texting Louis. Eventually, after an hour of chat where Harry felt guilty, and Cara looked mutinous, every time his phone buzzed she gave in and told him to invite Louis to the bar.

He was struck anew by just how wonderfully Louis slotted into his life when Cara and Louis had been arguing over whether Man U or Arsenal were better for fifteen minutes, and he realised Louis was the only person he had ever seen hold their own in ‘the arsenal argument’ which Cara just loved to have. Harry had been beaten down in five minutes flat when she first discovered he supported Man U, and had since been dragged to the emirates on many an occasion.

He’d only known Louis for about three months, and for at least a month of that they hadn’t been talking, and so he knew it was too soon to start bandying around words like love but he’d be damned if he had another word to call this new and frankly quite terrifying feeling. As he sipped gin and listened to the various merits of how Van Persie had played at the Emirates versus Old Trafford he couldn’t stop his heart feeling five sizes too big for his chest. Louis was so vibrant, so animated, and seemed to get more so every day he spent in Harry’s presence. It scared him, if he was entirely honest, shook him to his very bones. Harry wanted to throw up at times with just how much he already felt for someone who could and probably would walk away at any time. Louis was successful, driven, educated. Harry hadn’t been to university and worked in a record store. What on earth could Louis really see in Harry? Surely this was just a passing fancy to help heal his broken heart until something better came along? And yet... and yet Louis seemed to just open up more every day. He seemed to be falling just as fast and hard as Harry was. If their sex life was anything to go by Louis trusted Harry deeply, willingly submitting when the feeling was right, but also meeting Harry as an equal on every level at times with sex that felt like a fight to see who could pleasure the other more. Maybe Louis saw something in Harry that he didn’t see himself.

“You still with us Curly?” Louis was tugging affectionately on a loose curl that had fallen from Harry’s bun, dragging him from his thoughts and back to the bar. “Your round I believe, young Styles.”

From the bar Harry watched as Louis and Cara laughed together like old friends, Louis’ eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that Harry had only seen happen in private. A tension he hadn’t quite been aware of went out of him at the sight. If Louis fitted this well into his life, was this close to his friends, then surely this was something good? He resolved to see where it went, not to worry about what Louis saw in him. Three rounds later and they were all happily heading home, wrapped in a blanket of good friendship and alcohol. Cara had drunkenly whispered in his ear as they parted that Louis was the best thing that had ever happened to Harry, which he was inclined to agree with. He spent the night wrapped in Louis’ arms, trying hard to not think about their future or Louis’ past, and what the two might mean together.

A week later Harry’s sister called and announced she was back from travelling with her boyfriend, after they had broken up on a beach in Thailand at a full moon party. Apparently she had caught him making out with two girls after taking too much acid, and had booked the first flight she could the next morning. If Harry knew her at all she would be over it by the time he even had a chance to meet up with her, but he wanted to be a good brother anyway, and offer his shoulder. Which is why he found himself in East London on a Friday night, fighting for bar space at the Haggerston, when he really wanted to be curled around a warm boy in Shepherd’s Bush.

Louis had offered to come, but this was the first time Harry had seen Gemma in seven months and he wanted to at least try and be the supportive little brother he knew he needed to be. it turned out Gemma had been back for two weeks, but hadn’t got round to calling him. She already had a job and a flat and a whole slew of new friends, which she said he would know about if he bothered to follow her on instagram. It seemed that while she was a bit sad her trip had been cut short, she’d been being driven mad by her ex for a good while, and really it was a blessing in disguise.

Harry had forgotten how much he loved hanging out with his sister, they’d been super close as little kids but had drifted apart as teenagers and even further when Harry had moved to London while Gemma was at uni in Manchester. After uni she had headed off on a round the world trip, and so this was really one of the first times they had spent much time alone together as adults. They giggled and shared inside jokes as they drank beer, and Harry realised this was the first time in months that he had been out with other people and hadn’t felt an invisible pull drawing him to Louis.

After three drinks and a couple of hours of tales of Gemma’s tour around south east Asia, talk turned to Harry and what he had been up to since she had been gone. Their mum had kept her posted on most of his news, but as Harry hadn’t exactly told mum about his love life that was the area Gemma wanted the most gossip on. Harry was famous, infamous really, within his friendship group for his odd sex stories. He managed to get himself into the strangest situations at times and seemed to have no brain to mouth filter about those times, and so everyone knew. After Gemma had visited London on occasion in the past, and met his mates, she had been filled in on things she probably didn’t need to know as his sister, and Harry almost felt he was about to let her down with the lack of “this military guy asked me to talk dirty to him and I couldn’t think of what to say so I started saying affirmative over and over” stories.

“Well I’ve kind of met someone...” her eyes went wide and then the softness he was sure was in his own expression was reflected back at him.

“Are you in love, little bro?” Gemma sounded an equal mix of incredulous and ecstatic.

Harry blushed and squeaked, not quite sure how to make his vocal chords work properly under his sister’s knowing gaze.

“Oh my god, Haz! You are aren’t you? Fuck, you sly little bastard, Mum’s going to kill you. In fact I might kill you if you don’t spill all the beans right this second.” She was practically vibrating in her seat as Harry winced at her words, his mum probably would kill him when she found out he hadn’t told her about Louis, especially if she ever found out Louis’ mum knew first. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he hadn’t told her, they were super close, it had all just felt so fragile. It was almost like telling family made it real, exposed it to elements he wasn’t sure it could weather just yet.

“Umm, I met him about three months ago, we’ve been dating for just over two, not much to say really.” Of course Gemma was not going to accept that but he had to try. The look she gave him was reminiscent of a school teacher waiting for a kid to stop lying and just confess.

“Fine ok. Get me another pint and I’ll tell you everything.” Harry pouted, but it did the trick, with his sister heading to the bar.

It took him an hour to tell Gemma everything that had happened between them, which included a ten minute break of her ripping the shit out of him for sending the albums to Louis and another five minutes of her laughing her arse off when he got to the part where he and Nick decided Louis was dead. By the end of the story Gemma had cried most of her mascara off through laughing, but she was looking at him like he was a particularly adorable puppy and cooing, so he thought he had probably come out on top. Their relationship so far was pretty ridiculous, he could handle a bit of gentle ribbing from his sister if he had to.

“So, Hazzypoo, the important question, does he love you back or do I need to start researching how to get rid of bodies?”

“I, umm, I don’t know? I know he likes me a lot. I haven’t exactly told him I love him?” Harry had only really been able to call it love to himself in the last week without having an internal mental breakdown, let alone voice those words out loud.

“Why not?” Gemma was nothing if not direct.

Why not was such a huge question to be encompassed in just two words. There were a million reasons, and alone they all seemed a bit silly, but taken together they built to form a landscape that looked as impossible for Harry to traverse as the Himalayas.

“Well for a start it’s only been two months. Secondly he’s still fragile, still working out how to be with someone who isn’t his ex. Third it’s scary as fuck. And fourth I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” If Harry had stomped his foot and folded his arms he couldn’t have sounded more like a petulant child.

“All terrible reasons.” Gemma raised one weary eyebrow at him, sisters were so annoying.

“Stop doing the ‘I’ve known you all your life and can see into your soul’ crap Gems. It’s annoying and creepy and it won’t work.” Harry protested one last time, one last attempt to get his sister off his back before he knew he’d capitulate. She played dirty, she wouldn’t balk at calling their mum in for reinforcements, and seeing he hadn’t even told his mum about Louis that was not something he needed.

“Fine!” He hid his face in his arms on the table as he gave in. “I am terrified of being in love, and terrified he might not say it back, and I’ve never said it to anyone before and I’ve never done this, and it’s all so much ok?”

His sister’s soft hand rested on the small of his back, rubbing soothing circles that felt of home. She didn’t talk, she just hugged him until the stress left his back and he sat back up to drain his pint glass.

“Ok” he heard softly, “Take your time little brother, it’ll be ok I promise. And if you need me to hide the body just let me know” Beer snorted out of Harry’s nose in a most unattractive manner, but the last bit of tension left the air between them and things were back to joking and laughter.

They each headed home after making promises to hang out more often now they lived in the same city again, and with Gemma declaring that if she didn’t meet the famous Louis within two weeks she would tell Mum.

 

When Harry got home he was surprised to find Louis in his sitting room, playing Mortal Combat and getting high with Zayn and Niall. The sight of his boy just chilling with his friends, having made plans with them independent of Harry stirred an odd mix of contentment and jealousy in his stomach. He was obviously utterly delighted that Louis slotted so well into his life and friends that they saw him as their friend too, but he couldn’t help the slight twinge of the fear of missing out monster inside him.

“Hey Curly, how was your sis?” Louis was patting the space beside him on the sofa but Harry just dropped into his lap instead, wrapping his arms around Louis and breathing him in. It made virtually fighting Zayn very much harder but Louis didn’t seem to be bothered at all, chucking the controller to Niall and cuddling Harry closer.

“Hmmm, good.” Harry was a bit drunk and even he was aware that it was taking him even longer to get a sentence out than normal. “Really, really good. She wants to meet you, Lou. Hey! I rhymed!” He dissolved into giggles at his own very bad joke, vaguely aware that Louis was shaking his head fondly at him in his peripheral vision.

“Let’s get you to bed, drunkard” Louis was picking Harry off the couch like he weighed nothing and Harry would be lying if he said that fact didn’t go directly to his cock.

“I’m really not that drunk Lou, just a little tipsy. You don’t need to carry me.” Harry’s protestations were counteracted slightly by the way he was clinging to Louis’ shirt and burying his head in Louis’ neck, but that was by the by.

\---

Louis couldn’t help but be amazed at how perfectly Harry and his rag tag group of friends had fitted into his life as he lowered his drunken boyfriend to the bed and tucked him in. He’d intended to go back to the game he was having with the boys, but Harry just looked so perfectly angelic, lying in the light seeping through the cracked open door to the hall, and Louis couldn’t leave him. Instead he sat and watched for a while as Harry drifted off with a smile on his face, those damn curls floating around his head on the pillow like some sort of halo. How had he got so lucky? How had all of this come from a chance meeting on the tube? If he was honest he had sort of agreed with his mum that he was more likely to end up alone with cats than he was deeply, head over heals in love but that seemed to be where this was headed.

Louis had felt love before, hell he had built a life with the man he loved, but this felt different somehow. More mature, more powerful, more visceral somehow. He supposed that was the difference between falling for someone in uni when sharing a tiny single bed in halls, and falling for someone when you both had your lives set out, your separate ambitions and desires already mapped for you. Louis and Aiden had been so young, had fallen together before either of them really knew who they were apart, and so who they became, who they grew up to be, was always wrapped up in who they were as a pair.

When Aiden had walked out he had taken everything Louis had thought he was with him. All their friends were mutual friends, all their ambitions were mutual ambitions, all their knowledge of love and life and hopes and dreams were tangled up in one package. It hadn’t been healthy, Louis could see that now, but it had been all he had known. He’d had to relearn everything when Aiden had left, explore who he could be alone and who he really wanted to be. It had nearly broken him, like a limb had been removed and no one had told him how to get better. But he had got better, he could see now that it wasn’t that Harry had saved him, it wasn’t that he had only faced shit down for this man in front of him, it was that in the last two years he had become someone he liked. He’d been lonely, for sure, and Harry had fixed parts of him he hadn’t known were still broken, but he’d been pretty ok before anyway. It was just now things were even better. Apparently he was incredibly sappy at midnight when watching his drunk boyfriend sleep.

The next day he asked Harry to arrange for him and Gemma to meet. They were sitting together eating tuna sandwiches and drinking tea, and Louis was feeling particularly at ease with everything after the previous night’s revelations. The answering smile Harry gave him could probably power a small city, and his dimples were so sinful that Louis was tempted to drag him back to bed. That thought probably wasn’t appropriate seeing they were discussing family, but fuck it.

As soon as they got to the bedroom Harry had him pinned against the door, kissing him like his life depended on it. It had been a week since Harry had been in charge, they’d fucked since but it had been tired after work fumbles that were more about being close to each other and kissing than they had been exploring this new thing they had found. They had discussed it in the weeks since they started fucking, and it seemed they were both content to just see where it went organically rather than plan too far. Limits and safewords had been postulated, but they all seemed so theoretical when sat chatting on the sofa with a cuppa that Louis hadn’t really taken it seriously.

“Safeword is the colours, Lou. Red is stop, Yellow is slow down, and if I ask and you are good say Green. Okay?” Ok this was serious all of a sudden, and the way Harry hissed in his ear made his knees weak and his voice shaky as he tried to affirm he understood but just whimpered instead.

A sudden bite to his neck and he was grounded back into the moment.

“Use your words, baby” Harry’s mouth was still on his neck, ready to ravish him in the best possible ways.

“Yes Harry, fuck yes. I get it, just fuck me already? Please?” Louis wasn’t above begging, he really wasn’t. Not since he had seen the delicious way Harry reacted to begging.

The pupils of Harry’s eyes blew wide at Louis’ words, lust colouring his face, and Louis regretted not a single life choice that had led him to this moment. He was quickly naked, he wasn’t sure how as he hadn’t been able to take his eyes of his boy’s lips for even a single second. Harry was still fully clothed, he was aware of that much from the friction Harry’s clothes were creating as his hips pushed hard against Louis’, but he quite liked the power dynamic it provided. Being exposed to Harry’s gaze in such a vulnerable way was quite delicious.

Harry picked him up, Louis’ legs around his waist and carried him to the bed, gently depositing him in a complete reversal of their movements the previous night.

“Such a good boy for me aren’t you? Gonna make you prove what a good boy you can be. Would you like that baby?” Louis’ eyes just rolled back in his head as he groaned, speech was a slightly too complicated brain function to cope with at that exact moment.

Strong hands were turning him, positioning him on his front with a pillow raising his hips. Legs slightly parted he tried to get enough purchase to grind onto the bed but that obviously wasn’t allowed if the way Harry slapped his inner thighs was anything to go by. The tiny bit of pain it offered just led him craving more, wanting to chase the endorphin release that he knew it would create.

“Stay still, baby.” He felt Harry’s weight shift onto the bed, and suddenly Harry’s legs were pinning his thighs down, offering him no purchase at all.

“I want you to count for me.” Harry’s deep voice cracked on the word count, so affected that Louis nearly came on the spot from the sound of it.

“We are going to do twenty baby, and see how you feel.” He could almost feel the imprint of Harry’s palm on his bum already, could taste the tingle and the adrenaline and the floaty soft feeling he knew would follow before Harry would capture him and pull him back to earth with fireworks and explosions.

The first spank was soft, warming him up for things to come, Harry’s hand massaging the spot where it had fallen as Louis groaned out a quiet “one”

After the fifth spank they started to come quicker, harder, Louis struggling to keep up as his voice nearly escaped him with every hit. By the tenth spank he could feel the heat radiating from his skin, Harry continuing to work him over, making sure every part of his arse was red and pretty, just how they both liked it.

The fifteenth spank was where it started to get intense, with occasional hits falling onto his sensitive upper thighs. It felt so bloody good though, with the sting of each hit receding quicker and quicker until he only felt the pleasure, pain forgotten in a different part of his mind. He was aware that he was moaning the numbers like a particularly overzealous rookie pornstar, but as they were alone in the flat he didn’t care one bit.

 

After the twentieth hit he lay moaning and whining as Harry massaged him, wanting more but not quite ready to ask for it.

“Louis, sweetheart, what colour are you?” Kisses up his spine and in the dimples over his bum accompanied the question, drawing him back to himself just enough.

“Green, please, so green, Haz. More. More please, please, need you.” He gasped out, before the tingling in his skin helped him float back into the headspace he had come to love so much. In that space there was no stress, no work, no worry. Harry took care of him and he trusted Harry one hundred percent to know what was best for him. Harry seemed to know what Louis needed and wanted before he did himself. Harry knew where to touch, where to kiss, how hard to spank in such a way that Louis sometimes thought that his boyfriend might be psychic.

“Ok, you don’t need to count these.” And suddenly Harry’s talented hands were back at work, this time faster, and then slower, light and then firm, thuddy and then stingy. Louis tried to count in his head but he soon got lost in the pleasure and the pain. The way that Harry mixed up what he was doing kept Louis constantly on edge, his cock growing harder and harder with each impact, his need increasing with every period of waiting where he didn’t know if Harry was done or just teasing him for the next smack.

Finally he felt Harry rubbing him again before soothing the heat with long licks of his tongue. Louis wasn’t sure he could cope with Harry rimming him right now, which was not something he ever thought he had said in his life before, even if only in his head. If he didn’t get Harry inside him soon he would scream. Of course Harry seemed to sense that, and it only made the him tease Louis more. When Louis had said that Harry knew exactly what he needed before Louis did, that didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes use that knowledge to drive Louis absolutely insane, teasing him to the edge over and over again before finally touching at just the right spot.

Tongue and fingers teased Louis for what felt like seconds, minutes, hours and days all at once, never penetrating him, never giving him what he needed. Just running gently over his crack and balls with feather-light touches that drove him utterly insane after the impact of the spanking. He could feel bruises forming, feel the heat radiating from his reddened behind, and it just made him feel proud.

“Such a good boy. Christ Lou you are fucking amazing.” Harry was gasping and Louis imagined he would be able to see him pressing his palm to his cock if he was to turn around. He knew Harry wouldn’t punish him for turning, their sessions were never actually about punishment, just about both getting what they needed from the other. For Louis that was to show how good he could be whilst also riding the most amazing rollercoaster of pain and pleasure that made him feel closer to Harry than anything else.

Lube coated fingers were back on his hole, gently pushing in, scissoring him open in such a way that told Louis that the teasing was done. Harry wasn’t gently tracing his prostate like he had once done for a torturous fifteen minutes, no, this was all about making sure that Harry could be inside Louis as soon as possible, that he could feel the heat of Louis around him in the best was possible.

Before that happened though Louis was flipped onto his back, Harry’s fingers still buried deep inside him.

“I need to see you Lou. Need to see my good boy as you come. Are you ok baby?” They touched noses, each breathing in the sweet scent of the other’s breath in a moment that felt frozen within their frantic fucking.

“I’ve... never better, please fuck me though, need to come so much it’s hurting.” Louis buried himself in the smell of his boy, heightened by the sweat that sheened Harry’s back. There was no better smell in the world, it smelled of home and sex and love. There was that word again.

Harry’s long fingers withdrew and before Louis knew it were replaced by Harry’s hardness. He felt so full, the slight burn of the stretch adding to his wonderful pain and pleasure mix, before Harry finally bottomed out, hips hitting against the tender flesh of Louis’ arse. Each thrust brought new pleasure, exploding behind his eyes in the fireworks he had known would come. When Harry changed angle and struck his prostate it was game over, Louis nearly passing out with the intensity of what he was feeling.

He barely managed to gasp out a warning before he was coming all over himself, cock still completely untouched. Harry looked down at him in awe as Louis started to come, the last sight he saw before he was forced to close his eyes at the strength of his orgasm, revelling instead in the fireworks display that rivalled bonfire night.

He was vaguely aware that Harry was still fucking him as he drifted off into space, completely untethered now but safe in the knowledge that Harry would find him and bring him back. He didn’t know how long he was gone for, how long it was before Harry was shuddering and groaning on top of him, calling out his name like it was a prayer.

They fell together after that, Harry’s weight on top of him gently pulling him back into the moment.

Long gentle moments followed as they basked in one another, gently reassuring themselves that everything was ok and would be ok. It was without doubt the best sex Louis had ever had in his life and he was busy marvelling at how it could feel so right with someone when he heard a whisper from Harry, almost smothered into the pillow.

“I think I’m falling for you Lou, I’m sorry.” It dragged him out of his post-orgasmic haze in an instant, not the fact that Harry had voiced his own feelings, but the insecurity with which he said them. The fact he felt the need to apologise for those feelings was just not ok.

“Hey, look at me, love” He turned them so they were lying on their sides, noses nearly touching. “Never apologise for caring.” Harry’s body was shaking, like the sex had wrenched this confession from him in an act of violence. Finally, long minutes later, the tremors started to subside, Harry finally meeting his eyes.

“You aren’t the only one ok?” Louis tried to pour all of his feelings into the look he gave Harry. He really didn’t think that post sex feelings confessions were ever a great idea, as both parties probably thought they were tainted by orgasms, but he didn’t want to leave this perfect wonderful human hanging. They’d talk more about this soon, of that he would make certain.

 

Louis woke to sunshine streaming through the windows. It was late afternoon and they had wasted nearly their whole Saturday fucking and napping. He could definitely think of worse ways to waste a day. Harry was curled into him, it was amazing how this beautiful lanky man could make himself so small when he wanted to be cuddled by Louis. He gave himself some time to just sit and admire Harry, stroking his hand through curls still damp with sweat, tracing the lines of his tattoos, and then eventually peppering his face with kisses when the need to bask in Harry’s glow grew too strong.

“Hello sunshine, back with me?” He bopped Harry’s nose which was scrunched in disgust at having been woken. It was kind of wonderful that only a few hours ago he had been totally and utterly submissive to Harry, and yet now he could be the one to take care of his boyfriend, to share the feeling of being safe in the others arms.

A few minutes later he slipped out of bed and made tea, carrying it back to the puddle of warmth that surrounded Harry in bed. They curled up into each other for hours, never quite broaching the subject of their post sex discussion, but both seeming to be content and relaxed in whatever this was. Eventually they had to stop being gross and shower before heading out to meet their friends, with Nick having agreed to come and meet Harry’s crowd in the Southampton in Gospel Oak.

It was an easy night. Nick decided that Niall and Cara were his long lost soul mates, Zayn and Liam spent the night comfortably curled into each other in a way that made Louis’ heart sing, and he and Harry drew complaints from everyone there for being ridiculously enamoured with each other all night. There was barely a moment when they weren’t touching, and they even had one of the old fellas who frequented the place asking when the wedding was, which caused Harry to blush so delightfully that Louis couldn’t even be embarrassed himself. Cara’s friends turned up after an hour or so and they took over the entire beer garden with laughter and friendship and happiness. Louis was pretty sure that this would be what heaven looked like.

\---

Harry met Louis at his chambers after work on Wednesday, more keyed up than he probably should be at the thought of Louis meeting his sister. They were going to go and eat in Shoreditch before tentative plans to see a band Gemma’s friend was in play, if everything was going well.

Louis looked like sin when he stepped out of his building into the courtyard. He had been in court today and was wearing a perfectly cut black suit that emphasised his tiny waist and pert arse in a way that made Harry want to cancel their plans and drag him into the nearest bushes to suck his cock. It was really unfair. Harry himself was wearing a pair of ripped black skinnies and a hawaiian shirt with a leather jacket, they couldn’t have looked less suited if they tried. And yet the look Louis gave him as his eyes scanned over Harry's body was nothing short of ravenous.

Gemma loved Louis, of course she did, and after some initial shyness Louis seemed to warm to Gemma just as much. By the time their starters came in some non-descript vietnamese place on the Kingsland Road, Harry felt like he was third wheeling as he watched the two of them get on like a house on fire. Gemma was telling Louis all about her deadbeat ex boyfriend who she had left in Thailand, and who had apparently started obsessively texting and emailing her in the last week crying about how he had made a huge mistake and that she was the love of his life. This was causing her to laugh so much that Harry thought she was about to wet herself like she had done when he was five and he had tickled her for half an hour. Of course he wasn’t stupid enough to share that story, the longer they went on without Gemma wanting to tell his own childhood stories the better.

“H, have you told mum about Louis here yet?” Gemma was grinning wickedly and Louis was smirking whilst trying to look innocently at Harry.

“Umm, not yet?” He looked wildly around the restaurant, trying to find something to avert this conversation, but found only his nearly empty wine glass.

“And why is that little bro? Don’t tell me you are ashamed to have bagged a handsome intelligent barrister?” She was a cruel cruel girl, Harry was starting to think things had been better when she hadn’t been living in London.

“You, of all people, know what Mum is like. I just haven’t been able to face the inquisition yet, that’s all.” Harry downed what was left in his glass before grabbing the bottle from the table and filling it nearly to the brim.

“I’m not sure we are at the meeting parents stage just yet,” Louis found his hand under the table and squeezed before continuing. “My mum only knows about Harry because my best mate has the biggest mouth in Britain, but I wouldn’t subject Harry to a Tomlinson family visit just yet.”

Gemma just laughed, knowing full well what she was doing by telling Harry to let their mum know he was in a stable, committed relationship. She would honestly have kittens. And then once she had gotten over the shock she would have joined forces with Louis’ mum and have the wedding planned within a week. No, it was too soon to subject whatever this was to the glare of parental scrutiny.

Their food arrived then, saving Harry from further embarrassment. Later, when they were stood in a bar on Hoxton square, waiting for Gemma’s friends to play, Louis looped an arm around his waist and whispered that it was all ok. He didn’t need Harry to tell his mum, he didn’t need anything from this but whatever Harry was ready to give. Harry just slotted his fingers into Louis’ and grinned, kissing him gently as the first strains of electronic pop came from the stage.

Another week passed and still neither of them had brought up their post-sex feelings reveal, but Harry still felt a weight had been lifted from his shoulders for just having admitted that feelings were a very real thing that was happening. It was obvious of course, Niall frequently referred to them as a pair of lovesick puppies, but putting voice to that made those feelings start to coalesce into something tangible.

 

Louis met him at work that Friday, and they headed back to Louis’ place together for a whole weekend where neither of them needed to work. Harry was jubilant. It was the first time since they had met that this had been a possibility and they had tentative plans to drive down to Brighton for the day on Sunday if the weather was on their side.

As they walked into Louis’ flat he grabbed the post from the floor, starting to sort it as Harry went to put the kettle on. He felt very at home in Louis’ space already. So he didn’t notice immediately that Louis hadn’t followed him into the kitchen, that Louis was still standing in the hall staring at an envelope that had arrived that day.

“Haz?” Louis’ voice was wavering. Harry turned back to the kitchen door and saw Louis there with the envelope in his shaking hands. Not opened as yet. It was thick and cream with Louis’ name and address hand lettered on the outside.

“It’s from him.” That was all Louis managed to say before he collapsed into a chair and resumed staring at the unassuming looking envelope.

“Who? Aren’t you going to open it?” Harry was confused. What on earth could be in this letter that caused Louis so much distress before he even read it?

“Aiden.” Oh. Ok. Well that made slightly more sense. “Can you read it please?” Louis was pushing the envelope over to Harry across the table.

Inside was an invitation to Aiden’s wedding, and Harry felt his blood boiling on Louis’ behalf. How dare this man who had broken his heart just casually send an invite to his wedding to another man? There was another slip of paper inside too, and as Harry unfolded it his heart nearly broke in two. There on the page were four little words which had the power to potentially destroy everything;

_I still love you_

_ Ax _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me! Feel free to come rant to me on tumblr


	6. Chapter 6

Louis was raging.

In the past hour he had swung between hurt, confused, angry, hopeful and apologetic so many times that he didn’t know which way was up, but he knew he was now raging angry. How fucking dare Aiden do this to him? A year ago, hell three months ago, he might have felt differently but now he had Harry and Harry was...

Harry was crying quietly on the sofa was what he was. He had listened, advised, soothed, and cried with Louis through his emotional breakdown and now he looked lost and alone and a million miles away from Louis, and that needed to be fixed. Fuck Aiden and his sudden declaration of love, the man Louis was currently in love with was broken on his sofa, probably scared stiff that Louis was going to up and leave, and that just wasn’t ok.

“Baby? Please don’t cry, H.” He tried to put his own anger and heartache to one side, to not let it colour his voice. He needed to reassure Harry before he lost him.

“I’m ok Louis, I’m sorry. You don’t need to deal with me right now. I’ll just go, ok?” Harry’s voice was choked with emotion. Earlier he had told Louis it was ok, that he would understand if Louis wanted to go back to Aiden. Aiden was successful and had been to university. Aiden had money and didn’t live in a shared flat in New Cross. Aiden was the love of his life after all. Except Aiden wasn’t. Not anymore anyway. But how could Louis tell Harry that without declaring his feelings? It wasn’t fair to drop an I love you bomb after this, not when Harry would likely see it as a knee-jerk reaction the situation, but this had given him clarity that he did, in fact, love Harry. It was all so confusing and messed up.

“Don’t leave. Please? I don’t care about him Harry.” That couldn’t have sounded like more of a lie after the past hour, but it felt true to Louis in that moment.

“You do though. I get it. He’s your first love, only love.” There was a tiny waiver of hope in Harry’s voice but Louis couldn’t, not like this. When he told Harry he loved him it had to be right, not to try and save something his arse of an ex boyfriend had tried so bloody hard to wreck.

“I don’t still love him. It’s just a lot to take in. After all this time he does this? I’m crying and angry for the person I was when he left, not the person I am now, ok?” Louis didn’t even know if that made sense but it sounded kinda plausible in his head.

Harry stayed. He stayed but insisted on sleeping on the sofa, saying Louis needed some time alone. That was quite honestly the last thing Louis needed, but Harry was persistent. Louis needed Harry in his arms, needed Harry to hold him, to dominate him, to take away all of the pain and replace it with pleasure. He also needed Harry to reassure him that it was all going to be ok, for Harry to tell him he loved Louis so Louis knew he was right in what he wanted.

He lay awake for long hours alone in bed, able to hear Harry moving and breathing from the other room. He had to fight the temptation to go and curl around his boy so much that he considered tying himself to the bed, but instead he lay and looked at the stars through his patio doors, wondering just what had possessed Aiden to come back into his life in such a destructive manner. Harry and he were so different to what he had with Aiden, so much better if he was honest. Yes Aiden knew and loved Louis for years, but he didn’t know the Louis he was now. He couldn’t love Louis because he didn’t even know him anymore. Aiden knew _aidenandlouis_ , knew the entity they had become as teenagers when they didn’t even know who they were alone. And if the grapevine still worked, Aiden had fallen into his new relationship so quickly it had sparked cheating rumours amongst their friends, so it was unlikely Aiden had worked out who he really wanted.

Louis knew who he really wanted. He wanted Harry. He wanted kisses and sex and love and dates and holding hands in public. He wanted weekend trips to Brighton and football games wearing matching colours. He wanted a shared flat and shared friends. Down the line he wanted a big gay wedding. He wanted a house in the suburbs and two point four children. He wanted to build his life with Harry as equals and as partners. It really was shocking timing to realise just how much he wanted with Harry, just how fucking fast he had fallen, when he got a declaration of love from his ex, but Louis’ life hadn’t always been fair to him.

At three am when he still couldn’t sleep he dragged the duvet into the living room and curled around his sleeping boy on the sofa. He wrapped his arms around him and breathed in home. Louis fell asleep in minutes.

 

The week passed in a daze. Louis couldn’t concentrate properly at work and just wanted to be in Harry’s reassuring arms at all times. Harry was keeping a respectful distance, trying to give Louis space to think that all of Louis’ protestations couldn’t persuade him wasn’t needed. Apparently Harry thought that if Louis didn’t deal with this, and by deal with it he meant speak to Aiden, then he might not mean it when he said he wanted to be with Harry. It killed Louis. Seeing his wonderful boy looking so small and insecure. No matter what Louis told him he seemed convinced that Louis would end up back with Aiden.

Harry refused plans for the weekend, leaving Louis heartbroken. He knew it was silly, they’d been together such a short period of time, but watching Harry pull away from him over something he hadn’t wanted, hadn’t had control over, was like daggers through his heart. He’d promised himself once to not let Aiden cause him pain again, and he had kept to that for the most part, he just hadn’t expected Aiden to find a backdoor into his heartache.

Friday night saw Louis moping alone with a bottle of cheap gin and a stack of weepy movies.

He got a text from Zayn at ten pm asking what the hell he had done to Harry and how was he going to fix it. His heart ached at the fact Harry had managed to hide this from his friends for a whole week. He downed another gin and deleted the message.

At just after eleven Harry texted, just checking he was ok. He didn’t delete that one, but he didn’t reply either. He wasn’t ok, but it wasn’t due to Aiden he didn’t think, it was due to a severe lack of Harry.

Twenty minutes later he had a text from Nick, telling him Harry had shared with the class, and that Louis was an arse if he even considered going back with “the bad Grimshaw”. That made Louis snort, remembering when he and Nick were first friends and had discovered his ex and his new best mate shared a last name. This one got a reply.

**I’m not going back to the bad Grimshaw. I’m just fucked off and hurt and confused and I miss Harry. Don’t put ideas in his head but please look after him till I can?**

_On it Tommo. I have ventured to darkest South London (got all my shots up to date first, it’s ok). I’m playing something called FIFA apparently. It’s not as fun as real football as there aren’t men in shorts, but needs must. Don’t be a dick. Sort it soon, there is only so much New Cross a man can deal with. Nx_

Louis’ already aching heart surged with affection for Nick. The man could be an insufferable twat at times, but he was a good friend. There had been no obligation on him to go and support Harry, but he had done so anyway. Louis needed to buy him that coffee maker for sure.

 

Saturday morning dawned with a terrible hangover and a terrible noise. His doorbell was ringing and someone was simultaneously banging on the front door. Unless there was a fire that was definitely too much noise, in Louis’ opinion.

Dragging a dressing gown around himself he stumbled through the flat shouting at whoever was ruining his life that he was on the way. When he finally cracked the door open and peered out he found the last person he ever wanted to see at eight am with a hangover and puffy cried out face. He found Aiden.

“Louis, I...” Louis slammed the door in his face and slid down the hallway wall beside it. What the fuck was going on? Why was Aiden here and why was his head spinning so much? How was he supposed to deal with this when just opening his eyes hurt quite a lot?

The doorbell was ringing again. This time uncomfortably close to Louis’ head. Before he could move the letter-box was being pushed open and Aiden’s voice was sailing through it.

“Lou, babe, I know you are there. Please? I need to talk to you. I’m sorry for everything.” Louis snorted without meaning to, giving away his location.

“Sorry for leaving or sorry for the note?” He snapped bitterly, not even trying to keep the anger from his voice like he would with Harry.

“For leaving Lou. I was wrong. I love you, I’ve always loved you. Matt is great and I care about him but he’s not you. I couldn’t do it without telling you.” Aiden’s voice alone was enough to make Louis grit his teeth. How fucking dare he.

“I don’t love you.” He kind of hoped that would be the end of it, that Aiden would just go, and he could go back to falling in love with Harry.

“Please don’t do this through a door. I know you owe me nothing but can’t we talk face to face?” The plaintive tone in Aiden’s voice cut him. He could just imagine the crumbled puppy dog eyes that he was making at that moment. It had always been Louis’ downfall in arguments.

He stood and opened the door a crack, turning away as soon as he had and walking into the kitchen. He wasn’t here to be a good host, and Aiden had lived here, he knew his way around as well as Louis did. Louis needed tea. Hot strong builders tea that was fortifying and could get him through this fucking hangover and this fucking confrontation. He found himself automatically making two cups, one just how Aiden had liked it. Sighing he carried them through to the living room where his ex was awkwardly perched on the edge of a sofa.

“This place hasn’t changed much.” Aiden was trying to make small talk and that just annoyed Louis more.

“It has. It’s all my stuff now, obviously had to replace the stuff you took.” He could hear the bitterness in his tone and he hated it, hated showing any vulnerability.

“Yeah... I’m sorry about that Lou. I just wanted to have the stuff that reminded me of you, of us.” Aiden was wringing his hands, hadn’t picked up his tea yet.

“And what about what I wanted, what I needed? Did you think of that when you were fucking off into another man’s bed?” Why did he sound like he cared so much? He really needed to get a grip on himself, but in lieu of that settled for sipping his still too hot tea.

“I’m sorry, so sorry.” Aiden looked close to tears.

“You’ve said that.” An awkward silence followed, neither man knowing what to say or how to start a conversation. How different things were from when Louis had been able to communicate with him across a crowded room with just a look.

“You’ve got a record player.” Eventually Aiden broke the silence, and Louis nearly laughed out loud at his choice of ice breaker.

“I have.” He wasn’t going to give away the important stuff about his life that easily, make Aiden work for it.

“I didn’t see you as a vinyl sort of person. Always said that was for hipsters, before.” Confusion coloured Aiden’s voice and a tiny spark of satisfaction flared in Louis’ tummy knowing Aiden barely knew him these days.

“A lot has changed since you left.” Louis couldn’t keep his tone as even as he wanted, couldn’t help the old hurt from colouring it.

“Hopefully not too much. I’ve missed you so much Louis. I know you have too. It’s not too late.” Anger flared at that, it was way too late and Aiden didn’t even know.

“It _is_ too late, I’ve met someone else. And you are getting married in two fucking months” Louis bit the words out past the bile clawing up his throat.

“Oh.” Aiden visibly deflated. “Do you love him?”

“I do. Very much. He’s everything I want.” Louis thought he wanted to make it hurt, thought he wanted to twist the knife and watch Aiden’s face reflect all the heartbreak Louis had gone through, but when he saw the other man’s face fall he couldn’t do it. Despite everything Louis had loved Aiden deeply. He didn’t want him anymore but he didn’t want to hurt him out of spite either. Taking a long sip of tea and a deep breath he tried to calm down, hands itching for a cigarette.

“Listen. Ok. This is hard, Aid.” he waved his hands around, trying to indicate the scope if the problem. “Getting your note, seeing you again, knowing you are marrying someone else and yet you are here with me. It’s hard and it’s confusing. Just give me a minute ok.”

Louis pushed off the couch and headed for the garden, grabbing a packet of cigarettes from his coat pocket on the way. Once outside he tried to light one, hands shaking so much that it took four attempts. Three long inhales later and he was starting to feel more himself. Inevitably the door opened behind him and Aiden came to sit beside him. Louis pushed the cigarettes towards him, not knowing if Aiden still smoked. They sat in silence as Louis’ cigarette burned down and he stubbed it out.

“I still want you so much.” Aiden’s words were whispered like a confession. Louis understood. It was hard to see this man who he had basically learned everything he knew about sex with, and to not feel a phantom of sexual attraction there. He would never act on it, even if he was single, but he could understand where Aiden was coming from.

“You’re getting married. How can you say you love me if you’ve agreed to marry him? Don’t you love him?” Aiden’s breath caught at Louis’ words, and he was silent for a long time after.

“I do. I love him so much. But he’s not you. It’s not like it was with you.” Tears ran down Aiden’s face, making Louis automatically want to reach a hand out and wipe them away.

“Of course it’s not, you idiot. We were kids. We had barely been away from home, barely had friends of our own at uni before we met. It was a whirlwind of puppy love, but it was never built to last. Not many people end up marrying the person they met at their fresher’s ball.”

“I know. I know that. But it just feels like it’s flat. Muted. Like it’s lacking all the colour you paint your life with.” Aiden looked like he might try to kiss Louis through his tears, and so Louis stood and moved a step or two away, just to be safe.

“If you aren’t sure then don’t marry him. But Aiden, there was a reason we split up, and it wasn’t just my work. I’ve thought about it so much since you left, and we were going through the motions of what was expected of us. Neither of us really wanted to get married at twenty two did we?”

Aiden stood and held his hand out to Louis, shaking his head when Louis refused to take it, heading sadly back into the house. Louis followed, grabbing his phone from his bedroom on the way. He fired a quick text to Harry, letting him know that Aiden had showed up and they were talking. Telling him it was all ok and he would be back to Harry as soon as he could be.

Aiden looked broken when Louis returned to the living room. It was hard to see him like this but Louis desperately needed this conversation to be over so he could go and win his boy back. If anything seeing Aiden had just made him more certain that was what he needed to do.

“Aid, sweetheart, you say you love him, you are getting married to him, but then you say it’s dull? I don’t really get it.” Louis’ voice had softened dramatically, and part of him wanted to put his arm around his ex to comfort him but he didn’t think that was wise just yet.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just last minute nerves. It used to be better, but it’s just felt flat recently. I shouldn’t be talking to you about it. It’s not fair on either of us.” Aiden shot him a shaky smile, eyes still a bit too watery to not be seconds away from tears again. “Tell me about him, Lou?”

“Harry?” Louis heard his own voice soften just at the thought of his boy. “He’s wonderful, Aiden. He’s so different to me in some ways and he opens up this whole world I wasn’t even aware I was missing out on, but at the same time he’s like the other half of me, he’s my soulmate. It’s like I’ve known him forever, even though it’s not been that long, and like I just know he’ll be in my life forever, ‘cause I can’t imagine life without him.” Aiden was looking sad, tears running silently down his face, and Louis felt awful but at the same time it needed to be said.

“I’m sorry, you know? If you’d come back six months ago I might have said differently, might have taken you back. But you know what, Aid? It would still have been wrong then, even before I met Harry. I’m not saying no because of him, I’m saying no because we aren’t right for each other, not anymore.”

 

\---

 

Harry had woken early, with a searing desire to just see Louis. He was wracked with guilt at having left him alone this weekend, knowing it was more for his own needs than for Louis’, and Louis needed him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Louis, he just wanted to be there to give him support, just wanted to be close to him.

He slipped out of their flat, leaving Nick snoring on the sofa, not wanting to alert the others that he was running to Louis when he had spent the previous night crying on their shoulders about it all. To be fair they had all been very much on Louis’ side, if there were sides in this. His friends were pretty wonderful all told.

As he got off the overground he checked the time, it was half eight and he was a bit concerned that Louis wouldn’t even be awake yet, Nick had implied Louis was quite drunk when they had texted last night. It hurt only a little that Louis replied to Nick and not to him, he supposed Nick was a safer option and the text Nick had shown Harry had made his heart hurt with how much Louis obviously cared.

He got to Louis’ door with two coffees in hand, ready to ring the bell, when he noticed that the door was ever so slightly ajar. That was worrying, his heart picked up in his chest as he gently pushed the door open, not wanting to alert anyone who might be robbing the place to his presence.He was just about to creep into the living room when he heard talking coming from the garden, Louis talking. Louis talking to someone who he was referring to as Aiden.

He didn’t mean to keep himself hidden but he wasn't sure what to do. He couldn’t breeze into the house in the middle of what was clearly a heart to heart, but he didn’t have the strength to walk away and leave them together either. His phone buzzed in his pocket, a text from Louis telling him Aiden was there. His shoulders relaxed just a tiny bit, it had to be ok if Louis was telling him about this. He focused on the voices as they came closer. Eavesdropping was not cute but he had to know.

“Aid, sweetheart, you say you love him, you are getting married to him, but then you say it’s dull? I don’t really get it.” Louis’ voice was soft but tired, Harry could hear the tension in it, clearly this was an ongoing conversation, and part of him wished he had heard the rest.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just last minute nerves. It used to be better, but it’s just felt flat recently. I shouldn’t be talking to you about it. It’s not fair on either of us.” Aiden’s voice wasn’t what Harry had imagined. It was lilting and only a touch lower than Louis, but closer in accent to his own. He sounded broken right now, and even Harry felt sorry for him. “Tell me about him, Lou?” Harry held his breath, on edge to hear what Louis would say.

“Harry? He’s wonderful, Aiden. He’s so different to me in some ways and he opens up this whole world I wasn’t even aware I was missing out on, but at the same time he’s like the other half of me, he’s my soulmate. It’s like I’ve known him forever, even though it’s not been that long, and like I just know he’ll be in my life forever, ‘cause I can’t imagine life without him.” Louis’ voice was so fond that Harry wanted to wrap himself up in that tone forever, like a blanket. Louis really loved him, even if he hadn’t said the words aloud.

“I’m sorry, you know? If you’d come back six months ago I might have said differently, might have taken you back. But you know what, Aid? It would still have been wrong then, even before I met Harry. I’m not saying no because of him, I’m saying no because we aren’t right for each other, not anymore.” That was everything. That last utterance was everything Harry needed to hear. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, so loud he was sure Louis would hear it from the other room. He hadn’t realised how much he needed Louis to not just choose him, but to choose not to be with Aiden.

Before he could compose himself and leave, hoping to wait outside until Aiden left, a man walked into the hallway. This must be him, the famous Aiden. He was good looking, slightly taller than Harry, wearing an old baggy grey jumper and skinny jeans, he looked exhausted and Harry felt for him, for this man who didn’t have Louis anymore. Harry froze, waiting for Aiden to speak and give him away. But the other man just looked at him sadly, like this was the final nail in the coffin for him. Aiden put a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence and slipped out the door.

As the door slammed shut behind him Harry still couldn’t move, not sure what to do now. He was shocked into action by a sigh from the other room, followed quickly by his phone buzzing in his back pocket. Instead of answering it Harry set down his coffees on the hall table and walked into the room, wrapping his arms around his wonderful boy from behind. Louis tensed for only a moment before he seemed to realise who it was, sinking back into Harry’s arms.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Curly?” Louis turned and nosed into Harry’s hair at the base of his neck.

“I, uh, the door was open?” Harry stuttered a bit, still utterly overwhelmed by what he had just heard.

“How much did you hear?” Louis was pressing kisses into his neck and shoulders and it was incredibly distracting, but he never wanted it to stop.

“Enough, Lou. I heard enough. We’re ok? Yeah?” He really wished that blood wasn’t rushing to his cock right now, they needed to talk but his body was reacting to Louis and emotions and Louis with startling predictability.

“Better than ok. Harry, I...” Harry cut him off with a kiss. He thought he knew what Louis was about to say but he couldn’t cope, not right now. His emotional limit for the day had possibly been reached, and any more would see him sobbing in Louis’ arms.

They held each other for a long time, gentle kisses, muttered words, tight arms wrapped around each other. Finally they settled onto the sofa, sitting just apart from each other. Louis was smiling at him with the fondest face he could ever imagine. Harry made tea and helped soothe Louis’ hangover which had come back with avengence after all the stress of dealing with Aiden was over. They watched tv and chatted, mostly about the week they had spent apart, but Louis filled Harry in on what Aiden had said too. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t like all of Harry’s fears were instantly allayed and they could go back to how things had been a week ago, but Harry felt that things were back on track, able to be fixed.

In the afternoon they went for a walk around Notting Hill, which they quickly gave up on when they realised there were so many tourists on Portabello that they could hardly move. Instead they ended up in a quiet pub near the canal, sipping pints and basking in each other. It was sappy as hell and Harry knew they looked a picture to anyone observing, but he had his boy back and that was all that really mattered.

It took them twice as long as it should have to walk home, both so wrapped up in the other that they could hardly stop kissing long enough to walk. By the time they got to Louis’ Harry was ready to tear off his clothes as he stood on the steps trying to find his keys. As soon as the door was open Harry manhandled Louis inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He picked Louis up and threw him over his shoulder, trying to get to the bedroom as fast as possible while Louis griped and complained and hit his bum in retaliation.

By the time he deposited Louis on the bed they were both struggling to breath from laughing, and it was perfect. Harry knelt at the end of the bed between Louis’ legs, head in his lap, breathing in the scent of Louis, feeling his hardness through the fabric. Peeling down Louis’ jeans he nuzzled at the pale flesh at the top of his inner thighs, so smooth and soft it was just crying out to be bitten, and so he did, drawing a delightful moan from Louis as he sucked a deep purple bruise into him. Next came Louis’ jumper and t-shirt, discarded carelessly somewhere over Harry’s shoulder. Louis was art laid out like this for him, living breathing art. Harry had to take a moment to soak him in; soft caramel hair, high cheekbones, perfect compact lithe body, and of course his beautiful cock. Harry wasn’t sure he had ever referred to a cock as beautiful before but there was a first time for everything.

"Harry” Louis gasped, “Don’t tease, just need you so much.” Louis’ hands were bunched into the sheets on either side of him, eyes screwed shut, like it was taking everything he had to lie still for Harry.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice was low even to his own ears, and sounded like he had already spent hours with Louis’ cock down his throat. “Do you want me to be in charge or...?” He tailed off. Not quite sure if he had read the dynamic right this evening.

“Please,” Louis was whining, writhing about on the bed like he was in pain, “Please Harry. Fuck. Please.”

He didn’t need further encouragement, taking his boy’s hands gently from where they were still balled into the duvet, and pulling them towards Louis’ headboard.

“Hold on.” He ordered, before going to work. This week had brought out an incredibly possessive streak in him when it came to Louis, and he had fantasised about marking every inch of Louis’ perfect body. Now was his chance. Every part of Louis that could be covered by work clothes was bitten, licked, sucked and kissed until marks littered his chest, arms, stomach and legs. Harry had paid especially good attention to Louis’ tiny belly which was his favourite thing. He had nuzzled and licked and bitten it until Louis had been squirming so much that he nearly dislodged Harry from his place leaning over him. Harry grinned into Louis’ stomach and finally decided to show some mercy. His tongue ran up the underside of Louis’ very neglected but shockingly hard cock. Lapping at the pre-come that had leaked from the tip, he moved up to Louis’ lips, kissing him and letting him taste himself.

“So desperate for me aren’t you baby?” He moaned into Louis’ mouth, before biting down on his lower lip. “My desperate needy boy. So good for me.”

The sounds Louis was making were probably best described as keening. He sounded like he might break himself with sheer need at any second. Harry kissed back down over the bitten bruised skin of Louis’ torso, and finally, every so gently, took Louis into his mouth.

“You fucking tease!” Louis shouted, the sound ripped from him as his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat.

Harry hummed in pleasure, drawing yet more wretched moans from his needy boyfriend. Drawing off before Louis could get too close to coming, he lubed up his fingers and teased Louis’ hole until Louis could take no more. He finally pushed one finger in when Louis had broken down and begged him, sobbing his needs and desires to Harry like some sort of confession.

Watching his finger slowly moving in and out of Louis was one of the most beautiful sights he could think of. When he finally added a second and started to stretch Louis open he could barely contain himself and had to push the heel of his hand hard to the base of his straining cock. The trouble with teasing Louis until he was a gibbering mess, was that Harry had to try and contain himself, which was easier said than done.

Finally he had three fingers buried to the hilt in Louis, and couldn’t resist curling his fingers just so to massage the spot that he knew would make Louis fall apart completely. Louis shuddered and moaned on the bed below him, but never took his hands from where Harry had placed them on the headboard. The power Louis was giving him was the best aphrodisiac he had ever tasted and he could feel it throbbing through his veins.

Before long Harry was buried in Louis, feeling the warmth that emanated from him sink into Harry’s core. He wouldn’t last long but then neither would Louis from the looks of things. Adjusting his angle he viciously bore down on Louis’ prostate, knowing he had hit it when every muscle under him tensed and Louis made the most obscene noise known to man.

They came almost at the same time, gasping into each others mouths as they tried not to fall apart. As Harry felt his orgasm building in his stomach he could have sworn that someone had replaced all of the blood in his body with champagne, feeling the fizz of liquid gold spreading through him, radiating from his core in waves.

They collapsed together after, both soft and pliant and needy. Harry couldn’t keep his hands off Louis, as if he might disappear at any time. They lay together for what felt like hours, the sky darkening into night outside of the window, neither willing to move, to stop kissing, to stop touching. The soft blanket of silence that covered them was broken when Louis cleared his throat, looking earnestly up at Harry from his place on the pillow.

“Hey, Haz, umm, I know we haven’t been together that long, and I know this might seem a reaction to this week, but I think. Harry, I think I love you. No, I know I love you.” Louis looked scared but so very proud of himself, and Harry could feel his grin splitting his face.

“I think I love you too.” He nuzzled into Louis’ hair for a moment before kissing him chastely on the lips, once, twice, six times.

“Just think?” Louis whispered, so quietly that his voice was hoarse.

“Louis Tomlinson, I love you. I know I love you, I feel like I’ve always loved you.” He bent back to kiss his wonderful boy again, but Louis was smiling so wide that their teeth just clashed and they both dissolved into giggles.

It was the most perfect declaration of love that Harry could imagine, and he had spent hours working out just which vinyl he could give Louis to do the talking for him.

 

\---

 

Louis woke Harry early the next day, Harry moaning that it was a sunday and what on earth were they doing up at seven am. Louis just bundled him into the car, refusing any and all questions about their destination until they pulled onto the M25.

“We’re going to Brighton, seeing we couldn’t go last week.” He announced shyly not quite sure how Harry would react to him making plans for them, for assuming cute couples days out were back on the menu even after last night’s confessions. The smile Harry gave him when he glanced over to the passenger seat was beautiful, warm and happy, and Louis knew he had made the right choice.

“Oh fuck. I have work at 12.” Five minutes had passed and Harry seemed to have just realised the connotations of their trip. Louis turned and smiled.

“Yeah, about that. Niall agreed to cover, we owe him ten pints apparently.” “

I’m amazed you got away with ten, he usually makes me promise thirty, I’m sure I owe him about four hundred at this point but he never actually claims them.” Harry’s voice was slow and deep with sleep, and it wasn’t long before he was curled in the seat, dozing with his head on the window as the Suffolk countryside went past.

He woke Harry as they parked in a carpark near the train station, already able to smell the sea air through the open windows. There was something about Brighton that always made Louis feel open and at home, a city capable of welcoming all and yet maintaining something so unique.

The first thing they saw coming out of the car park was one of those pottery shops where you can paint your own stuff, having it fired to come and collect a few days later. Harry’s reaction to the shop was like watching a puppy have a stick thrown for it for the first time. He was all big eyes and boundless enthusiasm, which Louis couldn’t help being caught up in.

They ended up sat in the shop with mugs in front of them to paint, despite Louis’ protestations that they wouldn’t even be here to collect their art. Harry said it was just a good excuse to come back soon, which Louis could hardly argue with. The look of concentration on Harry’s face made Louis fall even deeper, if that was possible. The tip of his tongue was stuck out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes were narrowed as he delicately worked the brush, hiding his creation from Louis, who was struggling to think of anything to paint.

In the end Louis decided on a ship on one side and a compass on the other, drawing inspiration from the fact they were by the sea. He pulled out all his knowledge of art from his GCSE class and really concentrated, but it still ended up looking like a small child had been let loose on his mug. Finishing before Harry he tried every trick in the book to get a sneak peak, tickling Harry and kicking him under the table, but his frustrating boyfriend just shot him a dirty look and went over to another table to finish.

While over there Harry struck up a friendship with a pregnant woman, his eyes glowing as he asked her a million and one questions about when she was due and how it was all going. Louis couldn’t help the fond feelings that bubbled inside him, and had to step outside to smoke before he did something silly like spontaneously propose.

When Harry banged on the window to wave him back in Louis had smoked three cigarettes in a row, and was feeling no more in control of his emotions. It was like being a giddy teenager all over again, only so much better as it came from a place of real understanding about the other person. Harry had drawn an anchor, with a infinity loop of rope through the top, bracketed on one side by an H and the other by an L. He looked up at Louis shyly through his curls as he presented it, clearly unsure if this was a step too far, it was all Louis could do to not laugh, Harry so nervous when Louis had half seriously been thinking about proposing not ten minutes ago.

“You see, you are my anchor, Lou. You keep me grounded. And ‘cause we both have nautical tattoos and I wasn’t going to add the initials but Mary over here suggested it when I told her about us and...”

“Breath baby, breath. I love it.” Harry’s answering smile spread slowly over his face, until it was blinding like the sun. “I love it and I love you.” Louis kissed him, maybe a bit too passionately for the middle of a pottery shop, but he really couldn’t care less. He heard cheering and applause around him, clearly led by Harry’s new friend Mary who was wolf whistling from her table.

They headed down into the lanes when they were done, grabbing coffee and croissants on the way, eating and drinking and chatting as they popped into all the little shops that lined the roads. Some sold clothes, others vinyl, others random junk that Louis could barely work out why anyone would ever need it. Louis managed to spot an album by a band he liked in one of the record shops, and sneakily paid for it before Harry could see, slipping it in his bag for later.

As they got closer to the pavilion they passed a tattoo shop which Harry insisted did great work, and dragged them in to check out his favourite artist’s flash. As they stood looking through sheets together both of their eyes paused on one design, almost exactly like the painting Harry had done on his mug not an hour earlier.

“Am I dating a psychic?” Louis joked, eyes wide and mouth agape, making Harry giggle. “you could’ve told me Haz.”

“Not psychic, maybe it’s just meant to be?” Harry was laughing, still fingering the shape of the anchor on the flash sheet.

“Maybe.” Louis agreed, fondly grinning at Harry like a fool.

“Hey guys, can I help?” The voice of the receptionist pulled Louis from his reverie, but left him unsure what to say. He wanted that tattoo, he wanted Harry to have it too, but he knew damn well it was too early. They’d only been together a few months, they’d only said I love you yesterday, why on earth was he thinking about proposals and permanent bloody declarations of love etched into his skin? What was this thing? How had Harry just come into his life and filled it in such a way that he already couldn’t imagine life without him.

“We might come back in a few months I think.” Harry answered for him, not taking his eyes off Louis for a second. Louis’ heart surged, a laugh bubbling up in his chest as he buried his face in his boy’s neck, smelling him, feeling his curls tickle his face, feeling utterly content.

 

Half an hour later they ended up at the front, pier to their left as they leaned over the metal barriers separating the road from the beach, eating chips from an overpriced place near the pier. The sea was stormy and the clouds were grey, but the front was still teeming with people. Louis could hear strains of music from the pier floating across to them on the wind, intermingling with the sounds of waves crashing on the pebbled beach and children’s laughter.

He was so happy, like Harry had filled all his cracks with gold, making his faults a beautiful part of who he was.

 

\---

 

Harry wearily opened the door to his flat the next evening, after a long day at work and an emotional but wonderful weekend with Louis. Crashing on the sofa, he lay starfished until he could eventually persuade his body to move long enough to go and make dinner. When he checked his phone he saw that it was running low on battery, and so he grabbed his bag to rummage for his charger. Instead of that he found a record that had been slipped in there by hands unknown.

There was a note attached, and Harry felt a grin forming on his face at the thought of Louis sending him vinyl in echo of how he had finally wooed his boy.

_H, Listen to[Agape](http://youtu.be/q1MmYVcDyMs). _

_While I’m not scared of losing you anymore_

_I don’t want to know who I am without you_

_Lx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It might be a bit longer till the epilogue is posted as I have some changes to make to it, and I also have to finish something this week for an exchange. So I'm going to estimate it will be up in 2 weeks.
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr, the link is in the first chapter


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